Yssha's Tale II: Stormcrown
by empire1003
Summary: Co-written by Cyclone Sword. Yssha and her team have defeated Alduin, Harkon, and Miraak, but the Second Great War is in progress, so their job isn't over. And the Thalmor want Yssha out of action, permanently. Mostly still T, but some incidents are borderline. Couldn't change official rating w/out losing it on my view.
1. Resurrections

Author's Note: If you haven't read Yssha's Tale I: Dovahkiin, you might want to read that one first, since this is a direct continuation of it. The only reason it's a separate volume is that the first was becoming unwieldy.

Oh, and an oops ... I somehow missed a change of Jarls in Winterhold when the Imperials took it over. My bad; I am fixing it now and in future chapters.

* * *

Chapter 1 - Resurrections

For the next couple of months, Yssha's main task was reviving dragons killed outside Skyrim. She was surprised at how many there were. Somehow, she'd gotten the impression that dragons were rare outside the icy, mostly-mountainous province, but that proved not to be the case. As she worked, she discovered they seemed to have a fairly consistent distribution, depending on the terrain.

In high mountain country, they were more numerous; in lower or wet country, they were fewer to none. She found a couple of additional blue ones, but never another red; Odahviing seemed to be the only one with that color. For some reason, that pleased her. He was her first vahriin, and it seemed appropriate for him to be easily identifiable.

In the brief times between carrying out resurrections, she was able to get into a few Dwemer ruins and restore their populations of Falmer to their new identity as Odmer. She much preferred both to killing, though she still had no hesitation in the few cases when that became necessary.

Much to her relief, she was no longer asked to take part in large-scale battles, since the Skyguard and Legion were far more qualified for those. She had observed a couple of them, though, and it was good to see how well the two forces fought together.

And Nevan's suggestions about indoor plumbing and sanitary systems had been adopted with glee in the time since his accidental summoning. She smiled the day she received an invitation to King Balgruuf's ceremonial opening of Whiterun's magic-powered sewer treatment plant.

She grinned at him when she showed him the invitation. "And Danica says she is having to treat far fewer illnesses at the Temple."

Nevan shrugged, but grinned. "Sure. Sanitation and health go together. It'll smell better, too, with all the black water going through treatment."

Yssha grimaced. "That will be wonderful, at least for those of us with sensitive noses."

The sewage plant opening, another couple of weeks later, was impressive. Balgruuf was in his best robes, wearing the Jagged Crown, his courtiers and guests in their best as well, Thanes wearing coronets and furs. Yssha was in her Radiant Raiment gown, wearing the Stormcrown, and dragons circled overhead while Balgruuf made his speech, had Nevan officially open the plant, and then led his invited guests up toDragonsreach.

Yssha was delighted for Nevan, who was rightfully proud of what he'd brought to Skyrim. She watched him circulate, accepting congratulations modestly, giving much of the credit to Farengar and the College mages for the actual work.

She was chatting with Grams when she gasped as she felt a blade enter her back and find her heart.

Grams was startled to see Yssha collapse with a dagger in her back, but not startled enough to keep her from casting a paralysis spell on the Altmer assassin. She knelt beside the body as guards hurried up to check on the commotion. She indicated the paralyzed Altmer. "Keep him alive for questioning."

The guards bound the assassin and took him away. Then, even though Grams had seen more than enough dead bodies to know it was useless, she checked Yssha for pulse and breathing, then removed the bloody dagger and checked it over. "Divines, they weren't taking any chances, were they?" she muttered.

"What do you mean?" Balgruuf had come up while she was distracted. "Is she - ?"

"Dead? Yes." Grams stood, showing him the dagger. "Enchanted and poisoned both, in case the wound itself wasn't enough."

Marcurio pushed his way through the crowd, followed by Nevan and Serana. He stooped, picking up his wife's body. "Well, now we know. Too bad this had to happen in public, but I guess it would've gotten out eventually. I'll get her to our apartment and clean her up."

"And I'll go to Lakeview, get her some clean smalls and everyone's armor," Grams said.

Balgruuf stared at the two of them in shock and confusion. "But she should go to the Hall of the Dead!"

Grams shook her head. "That might make it more difficult for her, especially if the priest tries embalming." She grinned at the look of bewilderment on the High King's face, then took pity on him. "On my honor as the Divine Crusader, I assure you she'll be back. Akatosh asked a great sacrifice of her, and she took it on."

"And what is that great sacrifice?"

"She gave up eternity in Aetherius to keep another Alduin from possibly arising. Shortly after she recovered from that illness, He gave her a choice of divinity, or immortality to keep leading dov."

"That doesn't sound like much of a sacrifice to me," someone behind her said.

Marcurio snarled, looking past Grams to the speaker. "How would you like to outlive all your loved ones knowing you'll never join them in the afterlife?"

The reply was almost inaudible. "I ... I wouldn't."

* * *

Yssha knew she was in Aetherius, but this certainly wasn't Sovngarde, or any of the other realms she'd heard described. This was almost like an idealized Forgotten Vale, and there was a familiar-looking house at the end of a graveled path.

She met no one on her way, though she did see a dragon soaring in the distance. Yes, the house was a perfected Lakeview Manor, and someone was standing in the doorway. It was Talos, she realized when she got close enough to recognize him.

"Welcome, briinah," he said, smiling. "Are you aware you're dead?"

"Since I felt a blade enter my heart, I supposed so," Yssha replied drily. "But what am I doing here? I thought Aetherius denied me forever when I chose immortality."

He chuckled. "Permanent residence, yes, but you have to go somewhere while your body regenerates enough to hold your soul again, so you get occasional visits. This is Stormhaven, since it's a better fit for you than Sovngarde. Though you can go there whenever you want to, of course."

"It is equally beautiful, but seems empty." She indicated the landscape. "Except for one dragon I saw, far away."

"That's because it's new, briinah. You chose immortality over divinity, but that doesn't mean you won't be worshipped." He grimaced. "It's human nature, you know, especially once you return alive to Mundus. So Bormahu provided a place for them, and I took the liberty of adding a copy of your home for while you're here."

"For which I thank you, zeymah."

"My pleasure." He smiled. "I think your friend is coming."

He was right; seconds later, an Elder dragon landed in her clearing. "Drem yol lok, thuri. zu'u Ahhunkein. When your laas returns, I ask vokriivon. Dovgrahaak knows where my body lies."

"It will be done, vahriini. With pleasure." Yes, she would resurrect him ... un-dead-ing seemed an awkward construction in Common, but graceful in Dovahzul.

"My thanks, thuri. I return to your glorious skies. Lok, Thu'um." He took off.

"By the way, good luck on the symbol your worshippers choose." Talos winced. "Mine chose a really odd mix of sword and double-bitted axe. I never used an axe, unless it was the only thing I could find when I lost my sword."

* * *

Yssha felt a tugging. "Thank you, but it seems I must go." And Stormhaven vanished, replaced by her familiar Dragonsreach apartment. She sighed, sitting up in her bed. "Marcurio? Someone?"

It was Marcurio who answered her call, kissing her. "Welcome back, love. You've been out ... a day and a half. You were killed about midday Fredas, and this is Sundas morning."

"So long? It felt like far less, only an hour or so."

"Plenty of time to clean you off and have Grams bring us all our armor and weapons. We've been taking turns waiting for you to wake up."

Yssha felt normal, so she got up. Marcurio pointed to what had been a large closet. "Bathroom's over there. Clean smalls in the wall cabinet."

"I am glad." Yssha found and used everything she needed for her morning clean-up routine, then returned to the bedroom. "Now - since the closet is now a bathroom, where are our clothes?"

He indicated a new wardrobe. "In there, for regular; armor's on stands in the living room and hall. Regular's safe now."

Yssha selected something she could wear under armor in case she needed to, instead of a gown. As she dressed, she asked, "Were you able to find out who, ah, killed me?"

"Easily. A Thalmor, as you probably guessed. He didn't even try to resist interrogation. He was proud of what he'd done." Marcurio grinned at his wife. "Grams borrowed your Amulet of Articulation to question everyone in Dragonsreach. He had two backups among the guests, a Bosmer and a Khajiit, but everyone else is clear."

"And those three?"

"Are heads on pikes over the city gates," Marcurio said with considerable satisfaction. "King Balgruuf took care of it as soon as Grams was satisfied she'd gotten everything possible from them. He gave one each to Nevan, Serana, and me." He chuckled. "I beheaded the Altmer, Nevan made the Khajiit fight him, and Serana ... let's just say it's the first time I've seen a vampire cheered for feeding."

Yssha laughed. "I wish I could have seen that. Did she go Vampire Lord?"

"No; she thought that would be a little more than the people would tolerate, even from a family member avenging you."

"She was probably wise," Yssha admitted. The Vampire Lord form was impressive, but revolting at the same time. "Where are the rest?"

"At breakfast. Shall we join them?"

Yssha's stomach replied for her, growling at the thought of food, and she followed him downstairs.

Balgruuf called her to sit beside him, and Proventus rose hastily, moving to another chair, taking his plate and goblet. Yssha took his place, and as soon as she was served, Balgruuf spoke. "It's good to see you up and around, Ysmir. Despite the Divine Crusader's assurances, it was hard to believe you'd actually live again."

"It is ... strange," Yssha said. It wasn't the first time she'd had a blade through her heart - that had been Mercer Frey's sword - but her recovery from that had had a perfectly normal explanation. This time didn't. "I can almost regret the assassins did not live to see this and report to their superiors that it is now impossible to kill me permanently."

"They'll find out soon enough. Everyone will - there were so many witnesses that word of your death spread widely almost immediately. Word of your return will spread almost as fast. In your place, I'd report it to the Emperor myself."

"Wise as always, my King," Yssha said with a smile. "I shall do so. I am glad you are still willing to give me your advice."

Balgruuf chuckled. "Any time you wish it, Ysmir."

"I have a feeling that will be often," she said. "You and Greats-Grandmother both. Let me see. That, and restore Ahhunkein, and ask Jarl Kraldar to accept Odmer into Winterhold ... killing Miraak and dying myself does not seem to have simplified my life at all."

Balgruuf patted her hand in an awkward attempt at comfort. "You haven't the temperament to become a Greybeard, so I'm afraid you finished the 'simple' part of your life when you began your adventuring year."

"I fear you are correct again, my King. But I have the consolation of being able to help people, sometimes in ways others cannot. I shall take comfort in that."

"If I may give one more bit of advice, wear your armor any time you're not in Skyrim. You're probably safe enough around Nords, as one of our legends and a daughter of Akatosh, but I wouldn't bet on anyone else not being subverted."

Yssha gave him a seated bow. "Yes, my King. I shall visit His Majesty as soon as I finish breakfast." Her stomach growled again. "It seems even a dead body regenerating demands food when it is finished. I am starving."

Balgruuf chuckled. "I shouldn't have interrupted, then. Eat, my young friend."


	2. Three Errands

Chapter 2 - Three Errands

When Yssha and her team, plus Grams, entered the White Gold Tower, they were greeted with deference, and escorted straight to the Emperor's private office. He rose, smiling, as they were shown in. "Stormcrown! I see the stories of your demise were premature."

"I am afraid not, Majesty. I was killed by a Thalmor assassin, but the Father of Dragons had ... made me immortal. I accepted that, but am still not sure I am ... appreciative of it. My opinion does not matter, however. It is what it is."

He looked from her to Grams, then back. "You ... awe me, Stormcrown. I'm not at all sure I could accept such a fate."

She was pleasantly surprised that he understood her reaction without an explanation. She studied him for several silent minutes, then nodded. "I believe you could, Majesty, but thank your favorite Divine it will not be asked of you."

"Please, be seated. Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

Yssha shook her head. "No, thank you." Then she felt a familiar presence and mind-voice.

 _Greetings, briinah. May I borrow you to remind my distant successor of his duty? I would frighten him unnecessarily if I were to do it directly._

 _Certainly, zeymah._

She felt Talos "mesh" with her, and her expression became stern. "You have been neglecting - or perhaps only postponing - a task which is vital to the Empire we are commanded to restore."

"And what is that, Stormcrown?" Titus Mede frowned, but his voice was curious, not angry.

"Your Majesty is not too old to marry and sire a legitimate heir. Your cousin the merchant will not do as Tamriel's next sovereign. Or you may legitimize one of your bastards."

The Emperor paled, staring at her. "How did you know?" Then he nodded. "Oh. Never mind. I think I understand. "

"Your eldest shows promise, if you train him to rule as well as he leads. Do so, or marry and sire a legitimate heir."

Yssha chuckled inwardly at the Emperor's expression, and his quick comprehension. She wouldn't have dared to give him orders on her own, which she was certain he knew. He _had_ neglected this essential duty, and a strong successor would be necessary, though hopefully not soon.

The Emperor stood and bowed to her. "It will be done, Stormcrown. After the war, I ... did not recognize the need. The way things were falling apart, I thought that to be the end of my line, if not of my life and the Empire itself."

"You know better now, and you owe it to your subjects to provide an heir as soon as you can."

Grams chuckle-purred as Yssha sat back down. "I've been telling him that for years." She turned to the Emperor. "So, Titus, will you listen to it coming from her?"

"I don't believe I'm being given a choice any longer," he replied. "Am I the only one who saw her glow while she was scolding me?"

"I didn't."

"Not me."

"I didn't see anything."

"She what?"

The Emperor sighed. "She glowed. Not much, but it's not the sort of thing I could mistake. And it was obviously directed at me, since none of you saw it. She was right, I should provide an heir as soon as possible. My firstborn is not going to like this, and neither are those of my courtiers who harbor ambitions toward the throne themselves, but it has to be done."

"He's a good man," Grams said. "I like him. And he's married, with children." She turned to Yssha. "Legate Gaius Uriel Quentin, actually Mede. Are you familiar with him?"

"Not personally, but with his reputation, yes. I agree, he is a good man and a good leader."

"And on his own merits," the Emperor said proudly. "He, his mother, and Ysshaya are the only ones who know his paternity - or were, until just now. His mother wanted it that way, for some reason she never told me."

"Because she didn't want him thrown into the slaughterfish lake that's the Imperial Court until he could take care of himself." Grams grinned. "She still loves you, Titus. She quit seeing you to keep anyone from using her against you."

"That sounds like her." The Emperor smiled slightly. "Do you think she might be willing to marry me?"

"Ask her yourself, my young friend, but I'm sure you'll like the answer." Grams grinned, standing. "Why don't you take care of that right away?"

"Yes, why don't I?" The Emperor grinned at her. "Matchmaker."

"Well, she is a Redguard noble, so it's to the Empire's benefit as well as both of yours," Grams pointed out. "Love and good politics both ... can't beat it. We'll see ourselves out."

* * *

The team's next stop was the Jarl's Longhouse in Winterhold, where they found Jarl Kraldar holding his brief daily audience. As remote as Winterhold was, and as little as it had to offer, it didn't surprise Yssha that Kraldar apparently hadn't heard of her death and revival; he greeted her normally. "Welcome, Ysmir. What can Winterhold do for you?"

Yssha smiled. "It may be the other way around, my Jarl, if you are willing."

Kraldar straightened on his throne. "What do you mean?"

"I have promised to try to find a home for those Odmer who wish to live on the surface, and Winterhold is cold enough for them to thrive." She explained about the Restored Falmer while he looked disbelieving, then thoughtful.

"And how do you know they'd come? We don't have much to offer, since the Great Collapse. Not enough for a large influx, at any rate."

"Do not expect that," Yssha said. "Most of the current generation are too sensitive to the sun to want to come above-ground, though some have joined the Skyguard already, and I will pay to have several homes built until they are established well enough to build more on their own. Winterhold will grow, if you permit them to settle here, but I do not expect it to do so quickly."

Kraldar straightened even more, until he was sitting tall and grasping the arms of his throne. "I'd like to meet one of your Odmer before I give my answer, but ... this may be Winterhold's first shred of hope since the Collapse."

"That is not difficult. If you will permit, I will get Odahviing to call a dragon with one or more Odmer riders."

"Be my guest, Ysmir." When she left, he turned to the other three of her team. "Ysmir is ... not what I would have expected of a Dragonborn."

Serana laughed. "She's one of a kind, Jarl Kraldar. She loves helping. She fought Alduin, my father, and Miraak to help others, at the risk of her life and soul. If she can help Winterhold and the Odmer at the same time, she's not going to waste the chance."

"At no risk to herself, which is good. But as I said, not what I would have expected."

There was silence then, until Yssha re-entered the Longhouse, followed by two Odmer. The three approached the throne, and Yssha bowed, followed by the other two. "My Jarl, may I present Marcellus and Leras, of the Odmer."

Kraldar studied the two tall, pale elves. "You are dragonriders, correct?"

"We have that honor," Leras replied. "We were chosen by Odsotkiin - appropriately enough, a Frost Dragon. We are night scouts."

"And how do you feel about Ysmir's plans to settle at least some of your people in Winterhold?"

""If it pleases her to allow it, we will come. The climate seems pleasant, and the College is a definite attraction. My family would like it here, I think."

Kraldar grinned. "I think that's the first time anyone's called the climate here pleasant! Be welcome to Winterhold, then."

"You need not have my permission," Yssha said, troubled by Leras' comment. "I have no authority over you, nor do I wish any. I only make it possible for you to do as, and live where, you choose."

"Authority not claimed may yet be freely given," Marcellus said with a smile. "Our leaders have chosen to give it to you, Favored of Auri-El."

Yssha hid a groan. Would no one believe her, that she didn't want to rule anyone? She wanted to go home as soon as the current war was over, have kittens with Marcurio, and enjoy her family as long as they were with her. At least now she knew she could visit them even afterward, which was comforting, although it still ached that she couldn't be with them permanently.

She turned to Kraldar, becoming all business. "So, my Jarl. It seems we will need at least one house, as soon as it can be built or rebuilt. Since you will have to bring in materials and probably workers from outside, would you consider ten thousand septims a fair advance on expenses?"

"That sounds like more than enough, Ysmir. Should I keep any left over to start a second house, or return it?"

That was easy. "Keep it, my Jarl. The percentage of Odmer coming to the surface may be low, but that does not mean they will necessarily be few in number."

"And she will be repaid," Leras said. "We aren't beggars, merely in temporary need of resources surface-dwellers value. As we find those, Yssha-Ysmir-Dovahkiin will be amply reimbursed for what she spends on our behalf."

Yssha would have protested that she didn't need to be repaid, except for what Leras had said about not being beggars. She would not rob them of their pride, and it would help her aid the orphanages she was sponsoring, from the oldest in Riften to the newest in Whiterun.

* * *

The third stop was at Headquarters, where she found Franken and Dovgrahaak conferring in a tall pavilion over a table with a waterproofed map. She smiled at that, as another piece of evidence that dov and joor would come together in cooperation. "Dovgrahaak!" she called.

"Geh, Dovahkiin?" He turned to look at her. "We have one needing your aid."

Yssha nodded. "Ahhunkein. I met him in Stormhaven. He asked vokriivon, and said you knew where his body was. Lead us there, please."

"Gladly." Dovgrahaak crouched so Franken and his bodyguards could mount, then took wing, followed by Odahviing. They landed next to a dragon skeleton, with four Nords in Skyguard colors guarding it.

Yssha smiled. This would only require one Shout, since Ahhunkein hadn't been buried, so didn't have to be called out of the grave. "Ahhunkein, Slen Tiid Vo!"

There was the familiar regeneration, then flare as the dovah's soul re-entered his body. He stood and inclined his head toward her. "My thanks, thuri. Your skies are glorious, but Mundus is my home."

Yssha returned the bow. "You honor me, vahriini. This is my home as well, but you are correct about Stormhaven."

One of the dovah's team ran up - team-leader, from the gold embroidery on his surcoat. "You're okay now, Ahhun?"

"I am fine, Kjeld. Dovahkiin is very good at this. Though I am becoming hungry."

"Not a problem," Kjeld replied, signalling his men. "We got an elk and a bear." As they hauled the carcasses toward the dovah, he continued. "Stormhaven?"

Ahhunkein tore a chunk out of the bear before answering. "Tasty! Nicely textured coat, too. Cleans my throat going down. Stormhaven is a place Bormahu created for Dovahkiin to rest between lives and her followers to spend their afterlives."

"Oh? You don't go to Sovngarde?"

"That is for Nords and those who think like them. Stormhaven is ... more peaceful, as Dovahkiin prefers. A haven from the storms, as its name says."

"There're times I'd agree with her, believe it or not." Kjold grinned. "Even a Nord warrior likes a bit of peace and quiet, as long as it isn't excessive."

Yssha chuckle-purred at that. "Yes, even the Companions like a peaceful evening in Jorrvaskr once in a while. Although it is interrupted by a friendly fist-fight or two on occasion."

Kjeld grinned. "Yeah, you're the Harbinger, right? Glory of the Nine to you!"

"Thank you, but only until I can find another who meets my predecessor's ideals. I have too many other responsibilities to do the position justice."

"It's going to be hard to find another who measures up to Kodlak White-Mane," the Skyguard said.

Yssha agreed. The twins were a possibility, as long as they worked together, she thought, but the Companions weren't her only problem. She also had to find another Arch-Mage, and another Thieves Guildmaster. True, she had good backup both places, but it wasn't right for an immortal to hold the highest position and block others from their opportunities forever.

She changed the subject. "Ahhunkein, I am curious. How is it that you were killed, but your team appears unharmed?"

"I am unsure myself," he replied, between bites. "When we were attacked, I found a sheltered spot and had them dismount, then returned to try to find where the attack was coming from. I found two Thalmor mages and a few soldiers. I flamed them, of course, but the mages warded themselves. The soldiers could not, equally of course, so they died, and ... this part I do not understand, but the mages became much stronger, and their next attack killed me. Nor am I certain it was my flames which killed the soldiers ... at least one of them, possibly all, fell before I Shouted at them."

"They were gone when we got back to Ahhun," Kjald said, frowning. "The mages, anyway; the soldiers' bodies were still there. It was like they were only interested in Ahhun, and didn't care about us."

"That sounds all too damned familiar," Marcurio growled. "Miraak, and the dragons whose souls and power he stole. Not that I know any spell that'll do what his Shout did, but ... I think we need to talk to Tolfdir and Urag."

"If anyone knows of such a spell, it will be them," Yssha agreed. "And we bring Grams into it as well; she has all the resources of the Arcane University at her command, if they are needed."

"It sounds like there's some resemblance to the Vampiric Drain spell," Serana said, "but that one just heals the caster; it doesn't add extra strength. Still, it could be a base for a new spell usable by a strong enough mage."

"Then we definitely need a conference," Yssha decided. "Tomorrow morning, at the College."

* * *

Interlude - Decision

Secluded in the Aldmeri King's heavily-warded private office, the First Spymaster made her report, starting hesitantly. "Sire, what I have to tell you is almost unbelievable, and highly disturbing."

"Get on with it - with a warning like that, I suspect the damned Dragonborn is involved somehow."

"Yes, Sire. When the decision was made to assassinate her, I activated the four agents I had infiltrated into King Balgruuf's palace staff. They were armed with enchanted and poisoned daggers, and ordered to kill her at the first opportunity. That happened about two weeks ago, though I only received word this morning."

"So far, I hear only good news, nothing disturbing."

"Only one of the four made it out before Dragonsreach was sealed. He reports that the Divine Crusader herself confirmed the Dragonborn's death, then paralyzed the assassin and had him taken for questioning. Before my informant fled, he saw Marcurio pick up the Dragonborn and begin to carry her toward the stairs. But the guards were closing in, and he barely made it out.

"Gossip in town that evening said the Divine Crusader had assured King Balgruuf that the Dragonborn would return, so he waited to see if that were true, rather than returning at once. It's a good thing, too, because he was able to report on the execution of the other three the next day, and that the Dragonborn was at breakfast with the King the following morning."

"That is not possible," the King said flatly. "They must have healed her before she died, despite what her greats-grandmother said."

The Spymaster shook her head."Too many people heard the conversation after our informant had to flee. They are convinced Akatosh has granted her the immortality of the winged dragons, and she can die only temporarily."

The King scowled. "Talos worship is bad enough, but an immortal Khajiit to be worshipped as well? Unthinkable. Keep trying to kill her, and if the most drastic means fail, find some other way to take her out of action permanently. I don't care how you do it, and I don't want to know, either. Just do it."

"Yes, Sire. It will be done." The First Spymaster had no idea how, at the moment, but given a totally free hand, she was sure she could find a way.


	3. Forbidden Arts

Chapter 3 - Conference

When Yssha and her team arrived at the College of Winterhold for the conference, she was surprised to find Faralda and Tolfdir waiting in the courtyard for them. Tolfdir gave her a concerned look. "Are you well, my dear? We heard some disturbing things about your welfare."

"I am quite well, Master Tolfdir. Since I do not know what you heard, I cannot be more specific."

"That you were ill for quite some time, and secluded at High Hrothgar. Then later, a dragonrider said you had been assassinated at a party in Whiterun ... but here you are."

Yssha sighed. "Both are true, Master. But ... I am a true dragon in all but form now. And dragons do not die, at least not permanently. I have resurrected enough to swear to that. Which is why I must insist that the College find a new Archmage, and relinquish my other joor leadership positions."

"I understand, and we will begin looking for a replacement." He smiled. "We're all beginning to understand some of the dragon tongue, or I'd have to ask what 'joor' meant."

"I cannot say I am surprised," Yssha replied. When two cultures mixed, inevitably their languages did, too. She turned to Faralda. "Odmer, formerly Falmer, will begin moving into Winterhold as soon as residences are ready for them. Would you check them for mage ability when you have the time?"

Faralda laughed. "Snow Elves, our closest kin? I can tell you already that they are almost as magically gifted as Altmer. You were able to restore them? I'm glad to hear it, though the Thalmor won't be."

Yssha chuckled. "The Thalmor do not like anything I do, so why should restoring the Snow Elves be any different?" She turned to Tolfdir. "You got my message, then. Is everything ready?"

He nodded. "Ysshaya brought it yesterday, then spent the night here. The Arcaneum's been rearranged for the meeting, in case we need Urag to look something up."

"Let us go, then. Faralda, you too, please. I think the spell we will be trying to identify would fall in the Destruction school."

* * *

When everyone was settled, with refreshments at hand, Yssha began by describing what Ahhunkein had told her about the Thalmor attack.

"Is he sure the mages actually gained strength, rather than just health?" Faralda asked intently.

"He was quite certain, yes. Their next attack was what killed him."

Faralda's expression grew ... stormy was the best description Yssha could think of. "I wouldn't have thought even Thalmor would resort to that ... Abomination."

"What is it?" Yssha asked, alarmed.

"That's the spell's name - Abomination. The one casting it absorbs all of the target's health, magica, and stamina, stealing them for himself, adding them to his own. This kills the target, of course. And it's easier to use on someone close by, preferably of the same race. So those mages killed their own soldiers to take out your dragon-friend, it sounds like."

"And for nothing, since I returned him to life." Yssha growled deep in her throat. "If I hated Thalmor before, that is nothing to my feelings now. How long does the added strength last?"

"No set time - it depends on the target's strength - but usually only a few minutes."

"One more thing." And if the answer was yes, the Thalmor would have to be exterminated, for the safety of the rest of Nirn. "Does Abomination steal the target's soul, as well?"

"I don't know." Faralda turned to Urag, but he was already heading for a locked cabinet. When he returned, he handed the Destruction Master a book with a sealed ribbon around it.

She unsealed the book and opened it, then paled. "This is bad. This is _very_ bad." She read further, then absently said, "No, Abomination doesn't steal souls, at least according to the original spell. But if it's modified slightly, it can send them to a random plane of Oblivion." She flipped back to the beginning of the book.

"There's a prophecy here that's ... actually quite clear, for a prophecy. 'When the Stormcrown graces a furry brow, and what was torn down is being rebuilt, then those who hate will resort to all the forbidden Arts. Storms out of season, spells of deep theft, tame becoming wild, monsters and illness unknown. Aid from the Ghostly Ones.'"

There was silence for a few seconds, then a babble of people all trying to talk at once. When she got tired of it, Yssha stood. "Meyz Nahlon!" [become silent!]

The babble ceased, and she sat back down. "Good. Now let us analyze this calmly. Clearly, the conditions of the prophecy have been met. I wear the Stormcrown, and we are rebuilding wherever needed. Those who hate ... well, the Thalmor hate all who are not elves, and they are resorting to spells no ethical mage would use. The only part of that I see we can defend against in advance is the unknown illness."

"Ghostly Ones are probably the Odmer," Marcurio said. "They're grateful to Yssha, so they're probably willing to help us."

"And we have ways to resist or fight illnesses," Grams said. "So, we need to get the enchanters working on Resist Disease necklaces, shirts, and rings, and alchemists working on Cure Disease potions. More shrines wouldn't hurt, either." She grinned at Yssha. "This part's mine, youngling. I've got over two hundred years of accumulated loot, including soul gems, and you have maybe two - though I must say, you've done well for yourself in that time."

Yssha smiled. "And as Divine Crusader, the priests listen to you. All right, Greats-Grandmother, I leave that part to you."

"That's my good girl."

Yssha's smile widened. That was Grams' highest praise, given rarely enough it was something to be savored.

Serana looked thoughtful. "Add Resist Magic charms for anyone likely to go into combat," she suggested. "I don't know anything about this Abomination spell, but it can't hurt."

"A good point," Grams admitted. "But I don't know if I have the resources to do both."

Marcurio laughed. "I know you two are used to taking everything on yourselves, but think for a moment, would you? We have an entire Empire, even if it's reduced in size, to call on, including the Arcane University and College of Winterhold. Let them help you, for Divines' sake!"

Dragonborn and Divine Crusader traded looks, then both bowed in Marcurio's direction. "You are quite correct, clan-son," Ysshaya said, very formally. "I'll communicate with the University mages as soon as this conference is over. Oblivion, even the Synod and College of Whispers may be willing to help."

"And we already know," Tolfdir said. "We will begin at once." Then he gave Yssha a plaintive glance. "It seems the apprentices have hidden my Alembic again ... would you mind?"

Yssha laughed, grateful to him for lightening the mood, even a little. That was a constant at the College, apprentices stealing Tolfdir's favorite Alembic, and him asking her or someone else to find it. Fortunately, there were only a few places that both allowed apprentices and had the space to hold something the size and shape of an alembic, so it puzzled her that Tolfdir didn't go after it himself, but perhaps it was a game he enjoyed playing. "Of course I will, Master Tolfdir."

"Excuse me, Faralda?" Nevan said.

"What is it, warrior?"

"We all know Thalmor are ruthless toward non-mer, but Ahhunkein mentioned that at least one of the soldiers, maybe all, seemed to die before he Shouted at them. Would the Thalmor mages _truly_ kill other mer, including Thalmor soldiers, simply to increase their own power?"

"I was born and raised here in Skyrim, so I'm afraid I don't know any more about the Thalmor than anyone else. But from what we do know, it wouldn't surprise me."

"Okay, thanks." Nevan turned to Yssha. "In that case, thuri, may I make a recommendation?"

"Certainly."

"We normally target their mages first, but maybe it'd be a better idea to target anyone they have with them, soldiers or even civilians. The five of us don't need to be facing a bunch of mini-Miraaks ourselves, and the Skyguard or Legion would have even more trouble with them."

"Neither normally targets civilians," Yssha pointed out. "And the Skyguard's secondary duty at the moment is to protect them. But ... I must admit I am forced to accept your reasoning. Anyone accompanying a Thalmor mage must become primary targets."

"If you're fighting fair, you're doing it wrong," Grams reminded her. "A civilian who can be a weapon for a mage is as dangerous as the mage himself."

"Yes, of course." Yssha hid a sigh. "I remember those lessons well, and will apply them. But I do not have to like them."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Grams said sympathetically. "I didn't always like what I had to do, either, but we've both always done it anyway."

Nevan stood, and bowed in their direction. "You two sound like Imperial Marines. And there is no greater compliment I can give."

 _Shall I clothe him in the uniform he still craves, briinah?_ Talos asked Yssha. _He is a great warrior, brought here without his consent, and I would gladly grant him that simple comfort._

 _One moment_. She turned to Nevan. "Would you wish to wear that garb again, vahriini?"

"I'd love it, but I need the armor here, weak as it is compared to what I used to use, and what I'm wearing now _is_ my uniform here. A set of dress blues for formal occasions would be nice, though."

 _Yes, zeymah. Please grant him his wish._

And Nevan was clad in something never before seen in Skyrim. Dark blue tunic with red piping, high collar, gold buttons and insignia, and a white belt above lighter blue trousers with a blood-red stripe down the outside seams, a scabbarded sword hanging from the belt. A totally impractical-looking white hat with gold trim was on his head. There was a decoration around his neck on a starred ribbon, as well, and several others on his left breast.

"I hope that is what you wished, vahriini," she said.

Nevan looked down at himself, and gasped. "What - "

"Thank Lord Talos," Yssha said softly. "He approves of you, and chose to grant your desire."

Nevan went to one knee, looking up. "I thank you, Lord of Warriors."

 _You are most welcome, adoptive zeymah._

Then Nevan was again in dragonscale armor and Skyguard surcoat, a neat package on the table before him. "I ... that means more to me than you may be able to imagine."

"What was that?" Faralda asked.

Yssha smiled. "Talos chose to grant him a tiny favor for being brought here unconsenting. He is the God of Warriors, after all, and Nevan is most definitely a warrior."

Then she frowned. "To return to the subject, Faralda - all spells have limitations. What are the limitations on Abomination?"

The Destruction Master leafed through the book again, running her forefinger along the lines. "This tome is so old the language is slightly different, sorry. But it looks like there's the usual variation depending on the strength of the caster ... here, this looks like the strongest version. It looks like at worst, it starts falling off after a hundred ... somethings, a term I don't know. Urag, help?"

The Orc librarian moved up to read over her shoulder. "Divines, I haven't seen that measurement in ages. But it works out to roughly a foot and a half, so call it a hundred and fifty feet."

Nevan grinned. "That's toward the far end of a crossbow's or compound's good accuracy range, and I don't think your regular ones will reach quite that far, but it's promising. If we can keep our engagements at range, their mages will have to depend on any victims they bring with them, instead of draining our people."

Marcurio chuckled. "That sounds reasonable, but what's a compound? Compound bow, I'm guessing, but ... ?"

"Exactly. It's a bow with pulleys at the ends of the arms - once you hit the break point, it's a lot easier to hold at full draw, so someone who can't hold a longbow or recurve that way long enough for good aim can do it with a compound."

The rest of the team looked at each other, and their "Sorine!" was almost a chorus. Yssha grinned at Nevan. "All right. We will have to report this to King and Emperor, but after that, I would like you to go to Fort Dawnguard and confer with Sorine Jurard. With Serana, if you wish."

"Right."

* * *

When Yssha and her team entered Dragonsreach, the way to the throne cleared before her almost like magic, and Balgruuf rose to greet her. "What may Skyrim do for you, Ysmir?"

Yssha bowed. "For now, a private discussion, my King. With Irileth and Farengar, please."

"My office, then." Balgruuf led the way upstairs, stopping at the Great Porch to call Farengar away from Fusmulgar, then seated himself at his desk, waving the others to chairs nearby.

Irileth sighed. "I have a feeling this means trouble, doesn't it?"

"I am afraid so," Yssha said. "We were visiting the College of Winterhold to investigate a destruction spell, when Master Faralda found a prophecy." She read the copy she'd asked Faralda to make. "When the Stormcrown graces a furry brow, and what was torn down is being rebuilt, then those who hate will resort to all the forbidden Arts. Storms out of season, spells of deep theft, tame becoming wild, monsters and illness unknown. Aid from the Ghostly Ones."

Then she explained their interpretations. When she mentioned Abomination, Farengar cursed. "Yes, you must have resistance against that. I will begin designing a specific spell as soon as this meeting is over. Abomination is ... an exact description."

"Can you do anything about the 'storms out of season'? Balgruuf asked. "That one worries me most, especially if they come in growing or harvest seasons."

"No," Farengar said flatly. "Nor would I, if I could. Weather control is something only the Divines are capable of handling without disaster."

"Why?"

"Because the results are unpredictable. If I were to try stopping ... oh, a blizzard over Whiterun ... it could cause thunderstorms over Hammerfell. Or any other combination you might think of. I could easily make things worse for the realm rather than better. It's one of the first things we're taught, because it's so tempting."

"I understand." Balgruuf nodded. "Then go work on your spell. I'll brief you on anything else later."

"Yes, my Lord." Farengar rose, gave a sketchy bow, and left.

Balgruuf studied Yssha for a moment. "If Farengar can't combat the weather threat, then a great number of my people are going to need shelter for themselves and their animals. We'll also need a way to grow crops. I ask you to Restore as many Odmer as you can, and - "

Marcurio interrupted. "Blackreach! And other Dwemer places. Bandit caverns for some. Oblivion, we've got Pinewatch next door!"

"I'm sorry?" Balgruuf was obviously puzzled.

"Blackreach is a Dwemer underground complex," Yssha explained. "Possibly as large as a Hold, though we have been through only a small part of it. The problem there is that it is full of Falmer, and the light may not be enough to grow crops. Not to mention the limited access. But Dwemer ruins are a possibility, and bandit caverns as refuge from the weather, where current shelters are inadequate."

"So I tell people to begin building sturdy barns for livestock, for now." Balgruuf scowled. "Will you explore Blackreach, please?"

He turned to Nevan. Do you know any way to grow crops ... um ... in other than our normal ways? Low light, more cold, anything?" He slapped a hand on his desk. "I will not have my people starve, if there is any way to prevent it!"

"Yes, sir. It's called hydroponics, and back where I came from, it was invented ... um, almost a thousand years ago. It requires good lighting, but otherwise, it's simply growing plants in a mineral solution, with or without a substrate ... um, that's something like vermiculite, perlite, or pumice, maybe parboiled rice hulls or even sheep's wool. The tricky part here would be monitoring the solution strength, since you don't have electronics, but that could probably be done magically."

"I understood about half of that," Balgruuf said drily, "but I'm not the one who has to understand. I want you to work with this Sorine on the lighting." He turned to Yssha. "I'm sorry to co-opt one of your team, Dragonborn, but right now we need his knowledge more than his physical strength."

"He was going there anyway, as soon as we finished speaking to you, my King."

"Let me see if I can recruit Mother," Serana said. "I don't know if she'd be interested, but if she is, she's a master gardener, and could probably set up some experimental systems at Castle Volkihar."

"Speak to her, then, by all means. But I want you to check out Blackreach first."

Author's Note: The first published work on hydroponics was Sir Francis Bacon's _Sylva Sylvarum_ , in 1627. Nevan was "kidnapped" from the Terran Empire sometime in the late 2500s - can't find my Concordance for an exact date. So in his terms, the timing is correct.

And the evening before I wrote the last part of this chapter, a poster on Ace of Spades HQ with the nic of Yip solved almost a year of frustration, helping me get the "Helgen Reborn" mod installed. However, it doesn't seem to fit in very well with much of my storyline, so its main connection will be robbing some writing time, and maybe a cameo or two if I find a character in there I really like. If you can, grab this mod - it's really great! (This is Mike Hancho's 165 MB one, not the 14 MB version from Steam Workshop.)


	4. Refuges

Chapter 4 - Refuges

Blackreach was definitely not one of Yssha's favorite places. Dim, with huge mushrooms, strange lighting, and Falmer - well, those she was looking forward to, now that she could restore them instead of killing them. But that left chaurus and dwarven automatons, plus probably other things they hadn't encountered on their first hurried trip through. Then, she'd been single-mindedly in pursuit of Alduin; now, it was exploration, to see if Blackreach was suitable as a shelter from the magic storms prophesied to descend on Tamriel.

Three days later, even though they'd entered with a week's worth of supplies, Yssha had made her decision, and she called a team conference. "I believe we have seen enough for a report, and the four of us simply do not have the resources for a full exploration."

Marcurio nodded. "I agree, love. We know basically what's here, but we didn't get very far in, and without some good cartographers, I wouldn't care to expand our explorations. With no sun, it's entirely too easy to get turned around down here."

"Serana?" Yssha asked.

"Pretty obviously, I like the lack of sun," the vampire said with a grin. "But that's not good for crops, and I can't see most people being satisfied with a diet of mushrooms. Still, if it's that or die, they'd do it. I'd classify this place as a possible refuge, at least for a folk as combative as Nords."

"Nevan?"

"It's not too bad; lighting's no worse than shipboard on low power, except for the weird color. Definitely habitable, and if Sorine's investigations of Dwemer lighting systems pay off, we'll have lighting for hydroponics. I don't think we can get cattle or large items down here, though, unless there's a larger entry we haven't found."

"So we report, and let the King decide. And we remain on call for things like restoring Falmer. Agreed?"

That got nods from the other three. "Then we leave and report."

When they got to Dragonsreach, Balgruuf took them to his office. "Well, is it suitable?"

"We agree it is usable if necessary," Yssha said. "Far from ideal, however, and we four were not enough to explore more than a small area near the Mzark and Raldbthar entrances. A proper exploration will require a much larger expedition, with soldiers and trained cartographers."

"What sort of opposition did you encounter?"

"Falmer, of course; the ones we encountered are now Odmer, but I am certain that is only a fraction of those who live there. Chaurus, dwarven automatons, a few frost trolls, at least one wispmother ... "

Balgruuf frowned. "That doesn't sound terribly promising for families, especially ones with young children."

Yssha nodded. "We discussed that on the way back, my King, and we believe a better alternative would be some of the surface features we have explored. Bleak Falls Barrow, for instance, could hold most, if not all, of the population of Riverwood. There, at worst, we missed a few draugr, or more bandits have moved in. It has a water supply, and the Word Wall chamber is well lit. Embershard Mine, water and perhaps more bandits. Helgen, not the town itself, clearly, but the escape tunnel Hadvar and I used. Again water, and perhaps bandits and wildlife. And those are only from my first few days here; there are numerous other locations."

"Yes, and I agree. Most of the cities are sturdy enough, with Windhelm and Markarth almost all stone, and Whiterun is being rebuilt more strongly than before, but until that's done, we'll need refuge sites ourselves. Dawnstar ... hmm. They have their mines, yes. Riften is ... problematic, flimsy for the most part, and difficult to defend."

"Morthal is no better, and perhaps worse," Yssha commented. "Still, they have Movarth's Lair, and Ustengrav is close enough to use."

"That does sound more promising. I'll send word to the Jarls to start preparing refuges. They may have to enlarge the hold guards to keep bandits from raiding supplies, or wildlife from moving in."

Balgruuf smiled, then turned back to Yssha. "And what will you be doing, Dragonborn?"

"I must turn over my leadership responsibilities in some organizations, so they will again have mortal leaders. I should never have been named Archmage in the first place, given my limited magical abilities, so that one will actually be more of a relief than anything else; I have already asked Master Wizard Tolfdir to find a replacement. I am Harbinger only because Kodlak asked it of me; I am free to shed it once I find a suitable replacement, and I have an eye on a couple of promising newcomers, or if neither survives testing, the Circle can choose my successor."

"And the Thieves Guild - Guildmaster?" Balgruuf was grinning at her.

"But ... but how - ?" She hadn't told him, she was certain of that!

"Oh, it's something I needed to know, so I made Maven tell me. If it's any help, she was reluctant, until I promised to have her replaced if she didn't."

Yssha sighed. "That sounds like her. Yes, I am Guildmaster, and that one I ... came close to earning honestly, though there were many jobs I was not allowed to do once my identity as Dragonborn became known. But exposing the former Guildmaster as stealing from the Guild himself, and then returning an object to the Guild's Patron got me the job anyway. For what it is worth, I have come to believe the Guild does more good than harm, taking out the overly greedy and the violent in ways the Guards cannot, as I did with the Summerset Shadows."

"Fortunately, I agree with you." Balgruuf's expression became serious. "Even the Guards know the Guild makes their work easier. Keep it that way, and the Guild will continue to be tolerated."

"It is in their self-interest, my King, so I believe you may count upon it, unless another Guildmaster like Mercer Frey arises." She paused, thinking. "In which case, I will see to his or her demise myself."

"Good. Now a question. May I call on the Guild for intelligence services?"

"That would depend," Yssha said cautiously. "What kind of intelligence?"

"Nothing you'd object to, I'm sure," he said. "Just keep an ear out for signs of Thalmor subversion. They can't work here openly any longer, so I'm fairly certain they'll be trying to stir up trouble indirectly, maybe even inciting another civil war. What about, I have no idea, but I don't trust those conniving skeevers."

Yssha chuckled at that. "Nor do I, my King. Yes, I will tell my people to report on anything relevant they may hear or see." She paused for a moment, thinking. "Perhaps I should retain my position, then, until the Thalmor are defeated. In my current ... ah, condition ... that will be a relatively short time."

"Again, I agree. Please do - it's surprisingly reassuring to have a Thieves Guildmaster I know and trust."

"Very well. It is not a time-consuming job, since all I must do is set policy for Brynjolf, my Guild-Second, to carry out."

Balgruuf nodded. "So then, other than naming a new Arch-Mage, what are your plans?"

Yssha thought for a bit, then shook her head. "I have no immediate ones, it seems. The Skyguard and Legion are in a type of combat my skills are unsuited for, I do not wish to have kittens until the Thalmor war is over, and I have no major tasks I must undertake. So I will probably return to simple adventuring, unless I am required to restore more Snow Elves or resurrect dragons killed in combat."

"Then you might want to talk to Jarl Siddgeir. The last time I saw him, he was hinting he had a proposal you might like."

"Siddgeir?" Yssha asked in surprise. The Jarl of Falkreath was both lazy and greedy, and she didn't particularly like him ... but on the other hand, he'd helped with the building of Lakeview Manor, so she probably ought to at least see what his proposal was. "Very well, I will speak to him."

* * *

When Yssha and Marcurio entered Siddgeir's Longhouse, he grinned and waved them forward. "Welcome, Ysmir!"

"King Balgruuf said you have a job I might like. What would that be?"

Siddgeir's grin grew. "I'm giving you what remains of Helgen, since you like building and rebuilding things. And for your efforts, once it starts producing revenue again, I'll let you have ... oh, five percent of the tax receipts."

Yssha hid a grin. Grams had returned her Amulet of Articulation, so even if her bargaining skills had been poorer than was the case, she could win this one, but she wasn't actually wearing it, so she had no hesitation in objecting. "That is an insult, Jarl Siddgeir, since I will be paying for the reconstruction out of my own purse. Thirty percent."

"Just the land is worth more than that! Ten percent."

"True, but the land is not bare, and much clearing will be necessary before reconstruction can begin. And without reconstruction, taxes will remain at zero." Yssha shrugged. "I need neither the tax money nor the inconvenience of rebuilding an entire town." She'd actually love it, but Siddgeir was a pain in the tail, at best. "Twenty-five."

Nenya approached her Jarl and murmured in his ear. He scowled at her, then at Yssha. "Very well, Dragonborn. Is twenty percent acceptable?"

Since she would have done it for nothing, Yssha bowed politely. "Yes, my Jarl. I have nothing urgent on my agenda at the moment, so I will begin hiring people to clear the wreckage as soon as Marcurio and I eliminate any bandits who may have moved in."

Siddgeir grumbled, but nodded. "Go ahead, then."

When they left the Longhouse, Marcurio was chuckling. "Think we ought to tell the King about this?"

"Probably so," she agreed.

* * *

Back in Dragnsreach and the King's office, she told him about the conversation, and Balgruuf whooped with laughter. When he settled down and caught his breath, he was still chuckling. "Dragonborn, you're good for me - I haven't had a laugh like that for years!"

Yssha was puzzled. "I do not understand, my King. He gave me a town, and argued about the compensation for rebuilding it. I think I actually did fairly well, since I can afford the rebuild and would have done it without the promise of a portion of the tax revenue."

"That's precisely it, my young friend." Balgruuf was still chuckling at intervals. "When Helgen was destroyed, and its Jarl made no attempt, however token, to rebuild it in all this time, it reverted to the Crown. He has absolutely no right to either give it to you, or to take any taxes from it."

"Ah. Well, all right. That is unfortunate; I was looking forward to rebuilding it. It seemed a pleasant enough town, the brief time I was there before Alduin attacked."

Balgruuf laughed again. "That isn't what I meant. Let me see, you own Lakeview Manor and Pinewatch, correct?

"Yes, my King, though the underground part of Pinewatch is now Bandit's Den Inn. My tenant there is quite enterprising. But why do you ask?"

"And you are Dovahjud and Jarl of the Air, also correct?"

Yssha nodded. "Yes, my King."

"And properly respectful to someone you could kill with a word, which I appreciate." Balgruuf grinned. "As a Jarl, much less Dovahjud, you require a proper Hold and city. Helgen is yours, and Skyhold extends from Laveview Manor to past Helgen, including the lake on the far side of Fort Neugrad. I'd give you more, but that's all Siddgeir has either sold to you or forfeited to the Crown."

"I ... " Yssha wasn't sure what to say, this was so totally unexpected. "I am ... "

"Rebuild your city and the rest of Skyhold as you dream it, Dragonborn. If it overgrows its current boundaries, I'm sure something can be worked out. You and your winged kin may be our only hope of survival in this war."

Yssha was shaking her head as she and Marcurio left Dragonsreach. "That was ... unexpected. I believe I need to speak to Franken before we do anything else."

Once they were outside Whiterun's gates, she called Odahviing, asking for transport to Headquarters. Before he replied, the dovah looked at her curiously. "If I am reading Khajiit expressions correctly, thuri, you have just had a shock. Is it anything I am able to help with?"

"No, vahriini. It is less a shock than a major surprise. I have been given a very small ground-based hold, as well as my primary one of the Air, which will allow me to rebuild the town Alduin attacked, and King Balgruuf has named it Skyhold."

Odahviing gave the draconic version of a laugh. "For someone who tries to avoid rulership with such determination, you seem remarkably unsuccessful."

Yssha sighed. "I have noticed, fahdoni. It disturbs me that happens so often. Unsuitable as I am, I regularly find myself being put in such positions. Of dov, perhaps it makes sense, since you take on my attitudes and Bormahu himself approves because it brings peace. But otherwise, I feel inadequate at best."

Odahviing studied her. "When you have time, you should speak to Paarthurnax on that subject. He has certain interesting opinions on what makes a good or bad ruler. Or speak to your predecessor, who was both respected and loved as Emperor."

"When time permits, I shall. But for now, I must tend to practical matters like getting rid of the bandits who have infested Helgen, hiring craftsmen to begin the rebuilding, and seeing if Commander Franken has enough unmounted Skyguards that he can detach some from combat duty to serve as Hold guards."

"Then we go to Headquarters so you can do at least two of those. And if you are to rule, will you not need a palace and throne?"

Yssha groaned. "I suppose I will. Though my ground Hold is even smaller than Morthal, so perhaps I can get away without them. Either way, I will spend little time there."

"Thuri, you must maintain the dignity of dov. You need a palace, like the other walled cities, and a throne, but I will take care of the throne for you. Hmm ... I should speak to the others, I think ... At any rate, mount, and we will go to Headquarters."

* * *

When they arrived, Yssha and Marcurio went inside to speak with Franken while Odahviing went to consult with Dovgrahaak and a couple of the others. Franken greeted the two with a smile. "Where are Nevan and Serana?"

"At Fort Dawnguard, I think, consulting on the compound bow and Dwemer lamps," Yssha replied. "But we are here because if you can spare them, I need to know if I may use some of your ground troops as bandit hunters and then Hold guards. King Balgruuf has given me Helgen as the capital of a new Hold he has named Skyhold."

Franken grinned. "Of course, Ysmir. If I recall correctly, that was your excuse for forming us in the first place. But only ground troops?"

"Until we get dragon towers built, yes," Yssha replied. "And only then, if the airborne are not needed for combat duty. Defeating the Dominion comes first."

"Of course. But certainly, we have a number of troops who're capable of bandit-fighting and Hold guard duties, but in no shape for airborne combat for one reason or another. How many do you need?"

"I would not think many, but that is not my specialty. They will have to clean bandits out of Helgen's ruins, then guard ... hmm. The guard dragons and teams on rotation at Lakeview can cover that and Pinewatch, so just cover Helgen for now."

"Okay. Call it three shifts of five, plus some extra to cover time off for illness, injuries, or leave. Yes, I can give you that many easily. And a commander I think you're familiar with, who's on limited duty only because of chronic airsickness. A transfer from the Legion, name of Hadvar."

"Hadvar?" Yssha smiled so widely her fangs showed. "He came to the Skyguard? Yes, he would be wonderful - I worked with him several times during the Civil War."

"I'll send them to Helgen as soon as you have some place for them to stay, then."

"The Keep was surprisingly undamaged, except for one area just before the escape tunnel," Yssha told him. "They will have decent shelter as soon as they arrive. Not luxurious, but soldiers' quarters rarely are."

Franken laughed. "How true! Even a damaged keep is better than tents. I'll get them to you in travel time ... call it three days, on foot. Two, if you want a forced march."

"No, no - it is not that urgent! I would rather have them arrive rested, in case the bandits attack as soon as they arrive."

Franken nodded. "Just making sure. Three days' march, then a camp, and they get to Helgen after a full night's rest."

"That sounds good to me. And please give Hadvar my regards."


	5. Deathbrand

Chapter 5 - Rebuilding

Rebuilding would take a lot of lumber and stone, so Yssha spent the next few days negotiating with the lumber mill owners in Falkreath and Riverwood, plus Half Moon Mill, to provide wood for rebuilding. Given the amount she'd need, all three were willing to give her quantity discounts, but it would still be quite expensive.

She'd been afraid stone would be a bottleneck, but it turned out that Riverwood had two seldom-used quarries, so she made arrangements with their owners, as well, and since she was the first customer they'd had in some time, she got good prices there as well. That pleased her, since she wanted as much of Helgen as possible to be stone instead of wood and thatch.

Shortly after she had the contracts made and workers hired, Yssha got a message from Balgruuf that the Emperor had made an announcement of legitimation, so that the Empire now had a Crown Prince, and His Majesty would be marrying the Prince's mother as soon as the proper ceremonies could be arranged. That made Yssha grin, happy that her own wedding had been in Skyrim with its lack of ceremony, although she did still feel a bit of regret that her family hadn't been able to be present.

The other part of the message took her aback. His Majesty had decreed a new Historical Era, something which had happened only four times before - usually at the accession of a new dynasty, but last time, when Grams had ended the Oblivion Crisis. He had decided the crucial point was one or more of the return of the dragons, her defeat of Alduin, or Odahviing acknowledging her as thur, since he'd just called it the Dragon Alliance, and made 4E 201 also 5E 1 ... so this year was officially, now, 5E 2 instead of 4E 202.

Which made sense, she had to admit. Eras changed when great events took place, and the return of the dragons after over four thousand years was definitely a great event justifying such a change.

Not that changing an Era count made any real difference, of course. A name change didn't remove the Second Great War - which, she thought, could equally have been the cause, except for the Emperors' naming the Dragon Alliance as reason. They still had to combat the threats in that prophecy, she was still going to restore as many Falmer to Odmer as they found, and rebuild Helgen. The date change might annoy bureaucrats - not a bad thing, in her opinion - but would make absolutely no difference to most ordinary folk.

X

A week or so later, Nevan and Serana returned home, Nevan looking tired but pleased. He put down his pack and an oddly-shaped carrying case, then handed Yssha a rectangular object with glass sides and what looked like a hollow sphere inside, with a petty soul gem inside that.

"What is this?" she asked curiously, accepting it.

"Our version of a Dwemer lamp," Nevan said. "We couldn't figure out exactly how they did it, but Sorine and I worked out the basic principles, and the first testing of our kludge went well. Now we need a longer-term beta test. Valerica is one of the testers, and we thought you might like to be another. Just stick it to a wall or ceiling somewhere. It's off at the moment; you say 'on'" - and the thing glowed brightly - "to get light, and 'off' - it went dark again - to shut it off. So far, it looks like simple intent on the light is enough to trigger the spell."

"That is wonderful! And what of the hydroponics system itself?"

Serana chuckled. "That's Mother's baby. Knowing it's possible, she's experimenting with different solutions and tank configurations, and using radishes as the fastest-growing things she knows. Centuries of gardening experience make a difference; she's already making decent progress. And thoroughly enjoying herself in the process. I think she's happier and more excited than she's been in hundreds of years."

Yssha chuckled. "I am glad of that; I have grown to like her, despite her initial hostility to me. Has she found thralls to clean the castle for her?"

Serana laughed. "Yes. We can appear fully human when we want, except for eye color, so she went looking for bandit bounties. Two of those on decent-sized gangs gave her a full staff, so the old home place is quite presentable again. She's using the Cathedral for her main lab, after getting rid of that awful altar."

"And what of the compound bow?"

Nevan chuckled. "Easy, once we worked out what to use for a bowstring." He opened the oddly-shaped case and took out the strangest bow Yssha had ever seen, with pulleys at the ends of both limbs and a string that fed around both. "This one's mine, about a hundred-pound pull, breaking to fifty."

"You keep it strung?" Yssha asked dubiously. "Will that not harm the string?"

"No - the string's dwemer-metal wire. And it takes a special tool to string a compound bow, so they're kept strung. And they need metal arrows; wooden ones shatter."

He paused, then grinned. "Oh, and Sorine sent you one of her improved crossbows." He took it out of his pack and handed it, and some bolts, to Yssha. "Give it a try. I think you'll find it easier to aim than a regular bow or a compound."

He seemed eager, so Yssha took it with a smile and led the way outside, to the target butt he'd set up for his own practice. The crossbow's operation seemed straightforward enough, so she cocked and loaded it, settled the stock against her shoulder, lined up the sights, and squeezed the trigger.

To her astonishment, while she missed the bullseye, she was within an inch, and her next four were almost dead center. She turned to Nevan with a happy smile, to see him grinning. "How'd it feel?" he asked.

"Feel?" She thought about that for a moment. "It felt ... 'natural' would seem the best word. As though I had been training with it since kittenhood."

Nevan nodded. "That was what it looked like - almost instinctive. Increase the range, and try again - I'll retrieve your bolts."

She obeyed happily, going out to the fifty-foot mark. When he joined her, she took another five shots, just as accurately, repeating that success at 100 and 150 feet. At 200, though, she couldn't hit a thing, so he had her move closer, in ten-foot increments. 180 turned out to be the critical point where accuracy seemed to drop drastically, and Nevan nodded. "That's how it works where I'm from. Compounds have about the same range. The crossbow's slower, but you're so much better with it, I'd recommend carrying one. Now you can engage at range and be pretty sure of hitting what you're shooting at."

"Better slow but accurate than fast and inaccurate, especially as bad as I am with a regular bow. Fast and accurate would be even better, but I am grateful for what I have." Her magica reserves were growing, but slowly, and most of her offensive Shouts were difficult to target narrowly, so it was a relief to have a reliable ranged weapon.

"If Sorine's current crossbow project works out, you'll get that," Nevan said. "She's having some problems, but she's pretty sure she can develop a lever-action self-loader."

"I want one!" Yssha exclaimed immediately.

Nevan chuckled. "Of course you do, and I'm sure she'll work out the snags; she's stubborn that way. Someone who's a natural with a given weapon always wants the best of that weapon type."

"Always? You know other 'naturals'?"

"A few - they're rare, but they do exist. I wasn't, but my half-brother Brendan was that way with knives. Other edged weapons, no, but he's an artist with a dagger."

"So what's next?" Serana asked when they went back inside. "For us, I mean."

"By some miracle, we seem to have nothing urgent," Yssha said. "Helgen is being cleared and construction will begin as soon as that is done. Unfortunately, Odahviing insists that I have a palace and throne, to maintain the dignity of dov. That is being designed, and the rest of the city will be built around it. I am hoping the design will be done by the time the debris is cleared. Everything else I must do has been delegated, so ... have any of you any preferences?"

Serana grinned. "Yeah, but I think you mean something useful. So how about that thing with the Stones of Barenziah? You said we'd found all twenty-four."

"Even better," Nevan said, "the Deathbrand pirate treasure. You said we'd go after that, when we had time."

"Yes, I remember." Yssha smiled. It seemed ages ago, but she had indeed promised him that. "Very well, we fly to Solstheim tomorrow."

When they landed on Haknir's Shoal and Odahviing took off, they began looking for the chest that was supposed to be buried here. What Yssha first caught sight of, though, was a small camp, and she went into stealth mode, followed by the others.

When they neared, she heard a brief conversation.

"See?" one said. "I told you. Just where the map said it would be."

Another one sounded more dubious. "We don't even know what's inside. And besides, there's ... the curse."

"Don't tell me you believe that rot!" the first exclaimed. "Well, as soon as Jorn gets back, you'll see. You'll see."

"Sounds like we got here just in time," Nevan murmured.

Yssha nodded, straightening. The other treasure hunters probably wouldn't be willing to let them go, especially since they'd already found the first chest, but since they might be no worse than mercenaries, rather than criminals, she wouldn't attack first.

The strangers didn't hesitate, though, so she knocked them back with Unrelenting Force while she and her team drew weapons or prepared spells. Four bandits - since a fourth ran up as the fighting started - didn't have a chance, and it wasn't long before Yssha had found a treasure map on the apparent leader's body, and Marcurio was digging out a partly-uncovered chest.

Nevan wasn't quite as good with a lockpick as she was, but Yssha waved him toward the chest. "Would you like the honors?"

"Sure, thanks!" He grinned and knelt, beginning to work. When he succeeded, he opened the chest and held up a helmet. "Got it!" he said triumphantly. "My first pirate treasure!"

Yssha chuckle-purred, amused by his enthusiasm. "We have three other chests to find. Hopefully, one of them will have information on where the main treasure is." She handed him the map. "Where next?"

"Hmm." He thought for a moment, then pointed to the mark nearest them on the western coast, near a river. "Start here, and work our way around the island?"

Yssha smiled. "This is your expedition, vahriini; we do it as you wish." She called Odahviing, and showed him the map. "We will start here, then work around to the mark at Tel Mithryn. By that time, we hope to know our final destination."

The red dovah nodded. "That looks like it is close to Bristleback Cave. There is usually a riekling camp there. Shall I flame it for you?"

"No, thanks," Nevan said. "Just land us nearby, please."

Odahviing gave Yssha a curious look, and she nodded. "He is leading this particular expedition."

"Very well, thuri. Mount, and we go."

He landed them a bit north of the riekling camp, then took off while they went south along the coast, fighting off the rieklings with no particular trouble except for their sheer numbers. "Pirates tend to be lazy, like other bandits," Nevan commented. "I can't see them bothering to carry heavy chests very far inland, or do a very good job of burying them, when they don't have anything to gain from doing a good job instead of a sloppy one."

"You're probably right," Marcurio agreed. "If not for Haknir's curse, they probably wouldn't even do that much."

They were proven right not much later, finding a weathered chest half-submerged in a tidal pool, guarded by mudcrabs. When they got rid of the mudcrabs, they hauled the chest out of the pool, and Nevan opened it to find a pair of gauntlets, but no clues.

The next stop was the Earth Stone, and this time they headed north along the shore, since the pirates wouldn't stay too close to Raven Rock. There was nothing until they came to a small grove of pines, and heard voices.

"I can't believe it," one said. "We ... we actually found it!"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" another said. "Go ahead and open it."

"No, no, I couldn't. ...You open it."

"Maybe ... we should think about this some more."

Nevan didn't bother going into stealth mode, instead calling out, "I'll be happy to open it!"

"Like Oblivion you will!" was the reply, as the two rushed to the attack. Two against four was barely a fight, and it was over in seconds.

"Not too bright," Marcurio commented.

Nevan chuckled. "'Brave, but not too bright,'" he agreed, "to borrow a line from a classic movie my people love. I wonder if this is the same group from the shoal."

"It'd be too much of a coincidence if they weren't, so I'm guessing they sent parties to the locations of all four chests," Marcurio said. We didn't see any at the last one, so maybe the rieklings got them first."

The third chest had been dug up, and Nevan had it unlocked in short order. This was the cuirass, but again, no clues as to the location of the main treasure. That left them only one chance, at the Tel Mithryn site.

This one was harder to find, much further inland than any of the others and up against a pile of stones, not out in the open, and they had to fight several ash spawn before they found it. The other treasure hunters had been less fortunate; three of them lay dead near the chest.

Again, Nevan picked the lock, finding the armor set's boots, and whooping when he also found a key. "Is this enough for you to use Pathfinder, thuri?"

Yssha took it and studied it carefully. "I believe so, if I target the lock it fits. Let me try." She cast the spell, and grinned when the path lit up. "Let us go!"

It was unfortunate, she thought, that Pathfinder worked so poorly, if at all, in the air, so they'd have to walk rather than taking advantage of Odahviing's speed, but Solstheim was small enough it shouldn't take all that long.

Their target turned out to be a barrow on an island directly east of Skaal Village. They ran into a few bandits near the barrow, but they were spared a fight when one of them recognized her and yelled, "It's Dragonborn! Run!"

Marcurio laughed at that. "That one either pays more attention than most bandits, or has a healthy dose of self-preservation. I'm kinda glad we didn't have to kill him for sheer stupidity, like the rest of them."

Yssha chuckled, agreeing, then handed Nevan the key. He used it to open the barrow, finding a small room with a dead adventurer and two stalhrim deposits. There was a note on the adventurer's body.

"'The single richest treasure trove in all of Solstheim,' they said. Bah. Looks like this place was cleaned out centuries ago. The stalhrim might be worth something, but my pickaxe ain't even good enough to chip it.

"Still, I can't shake the feeling that there's something I'm missing. There's an odd draft in this room - secret passage, maybe?

"I've locked myself in until those bandits are good and gone. I suppose I'll keep looking. Not much else I can do."

"I shall try," Yssha said. "I always bring my Ancient Nordic pickaxe when I come to Solstheim, given the value of stalhrim."

She mined both deposits, finding a narrow tunnel behind the western one, and stepped back to allow Nevan to enter. She smiled when she smelled his excitement. She couldn't say she shared it fully, but there was a definite tingle at the prospect of seeing the 'richest treasure trove in Skyrim'. That tunnel led to another door, which Nevan opened. He gasped before stepping into the next room.

"Great good gods, I don't believe it!" he exclaimed.

The rest crowded in behind him. Yssha blinked in disbelief, Marcurio said, "Would you look at that," in a hushed tone, and Serana was silent.

It was a wide corridor with heaps of gold and gems, an occasional chest, and a door at the far end. Yssha had never seen so much treasure at once. "What now?" she asked Nevan. "Try the other door, or simply take this and go?"

"I'm tempted to go for the door," the small warrior said. "But something tells me that would be a mistake. This has been unusually easy so far, and I've got a feeling we'll be paying for that if we go forward. We've got the armor and treasure, so the only thing we're missing is his scimitars, and we already have much better weapons." He paused, thinking. "Let Haknir and his companions rest in peace."

Yssha thought that a wise decision, and nodded. "So be it. Let us start ferrying this outside. I will ask Odahviing to find us some sacks, so we can carry it home."


	6. Aldmeri Interlude

Author's Note: Until now, I have tried to tell Yssha's story primarily from her viewpoint, but given what looks likely to happen from this point on, that would miss a good part of the story. I'll still use her viewpoint as much as possible, but you can expect other viewpoints from time to time. I'll do my best to be clear as to the viewpoint character for each chapter. Or sub-chapter, since I can foresee times where a single character may not be able to sustain a full chapter. My apologies if this makes things more difficult to follow.

* * *

Chapter 6 - Aldmeri Interlude

The First Spymaster summoned her two favorite Justiciars into her office a few days after her meeting with the King. Ungarion and Nerissa were both young and ambitious, which made them perfect for this mission, though for personal reasons she would regret sending them out. But business before pleasure, she reminded herself, and the pleasure would be greater afterward - perhaps in more ways than one.

She rose to greet them when they entered, then waved them to chairs. "You have a mission for us?" Ungarion asked.

"Indeed," the Spymaster replied. "One I think you'll find both challenging and enjoyable, if you succeed. I want you to go into Skyrim - under cover, of course - and find some way to capture the Dragonborn and bring her back here."

"Capture, not kill?" Nerissa asked curiously. "That seems odd."

"Oh, you can kill her as well," the Spymaster said. "That might make transporting her easier, in fact. Yes, if the situation permits, kill her and keep her dead until she's in a cell and shackled."

"Keep her dead?" Ungarion asked, suspiciously. "What aren't you telling us?"

"Auri-El has made her immortal," the Spymaster told them. "You can't kill her permanently, any more than any other dragon can be killed permanently, except by her. She's already risen once, a day and a half after she was assassinated."

Nerissa was dubious. "If Auri-El favors her enough to make her immortal, will we be allowed to do anything to her?"

The Spymaster shrugged. "I don't see why not. He did nothing when I had her assassinated, after all. I don't pretend to understand Divine reasoning, but we all know they seldom act directly." She grinned at her subordinates. "Given the threat she is to the Dominion, she must be gotten out of the way permanently, and just think about this: she can be made to suffer in the process. Much can be done to one who regenerates, and dies only temporarily."

The two Justiciars grinned at each other, then the Spymaster, and Ungarion nodded. "We see what you mean, Eliante darling. Yes, we'll do that gladly, and thank you for giving us the opportunity."

"Don't get in a rush for the fun," she cautioned them. "Make sure of what protections she has, and that you can get her back here safely, before you strike. Once you're back, you can have as much time as you want with her, then use her for training student interrogators when you get bored with her."

"A thorough investigation will take some time," Nerissa pointed out. "We no longer have the protection or authority of the Concordat, so we can't simply arrest people and interrogate them."

"I know that all too well," the Spymaster said bitterly. "Take whatever time you need, and do it right. She's too dangerous to take risks with, and I'd rather not lose you two. We have some other plans we can carry out against the Empire while you're working on the Dragonborn project."

"And we don't want to lose you," Nerissa said. "Could you set up transport while we start making our plans?"

"Certainly. Go ahead, dears. Come back tomorrow and I'll have you given a full briefing on every detail we know about her."

* * *

A week later, Ungarion and Nerissa boarded a ship for the Imperial City. From there, they would go overland to Falkreath, in Skyrim, where the Dragonborn had a home. It was reported to be well-guarded, but they wanted to see for themselves, in case the reports were exaggerated.

As it turned out, the reports understated her security, if anything. They were turned away at the border of a new sub-province called Skyhold, politely but firmly, and told it was a temporary precaution ordered by the King after the assassination. "No Altmer or Bosmer in Skyhold except ones Ysmir knows personally," the guard explained. "The damn Thalmor killed her once; they're not going to get a chance to do it again. You can find an inn in Falkreath or Riverwood, and both towns have storm shelters. I'd also recommend you get some sort of disease protection, if you don't already have it."

"I'm sorry?" Nerissa said. "Disease protection and storm shelters? Is Skyrim so much worse than reported? I mean, we know the weather is inhospitable, but - "

The guard shook his head. "No, ma'am. It's the damn Thalmor again - a prophecy found about a month ago that they're going to be sending diseases, and storms out of season, and other Forbidden Arts we haven't identified yet. So we've rigged long-term storm shelters with hydroponic farms, and folks wear something enchanted with Disease Resistance or Immunity."

"Ah, thank you. Yes, given that, such precautions sound sensible, though I don't understand hydro-whatever."

The guard chuckled. "I know the word, but that's about it, other than it being a way to grow crops indoors under artificial light - everyone knows that much."

"Ah. Thank you again, then. Is this something the Dragonborn did?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't think so, at least not by herself. I think it was some of her friends."

"She must have very talented friends, then. Which inn would you recommend?"

"There's not much to choose between them," the guard replied. "They're both small-town ones, pretty basic. If you want something better, you'll have to go on to Whiterun's Bannered Mare. You look like you're used to good living, so maybe you'd prefer that one."

"The Bannered Mare, then," Ungarion decided. "We appreciate both your information and your courtesy, guard. Both are unusual, in our experience."

The guard chuckled. "Commanders Franken and Dovgrahaak insist on that from the Skyguard."

"You are Skyguard?" Nerissa asked. The surcoat was as described, yes, but it would be good to get confirmation. "Where's your dragon?"

"Yes, and I haven't been chosen by one. Yet, at least, which is why I'm on border patrol." He looked disgruntled at the last.

"My sympathies on that. What is the best route to Whiterun?"

"Um." The guard looked uncomfortable. "With Skyhold closed to you, the best way is to head back to Falkreath, then follow the road north and east around the mountain outcrop till you see the stables. If you get to Blackbriar Meadery West, you've gone too far."

"Our compliments to your Commanders, Skyguard," Ungarion said. "You are a credit to their policies."

The guard grinned. "Thanks, sir."

When they rode back to the road, Nerissa grumbled. "This degree of security will make our job more difficult. No Altmer or Bosmer allowed into her hold?"

"True," Ungarion agreed. "So we will just have to find a different way. Direct action was always a low probability, of course, with her dragon and team almost constantly with her."

"True," Nerissa said with a nod. "The assassination must have been a fluke, given the way Eliante described it in the detailed briefing. She was at a celebration and wearing a gown instead of armor, and caught from behind. We won't be getting that lucky."

"I agree. We'll need to work it in a way that makes her come to us, since we're unlikely to be able to kidnap her or any of her family."

"Which means finding her weakness, since everybody has one. So we go with the historian scenario?"

"Now that we've seen her security for ourselves, that's the most suitable one. We can pick up the props in Falkreath, and start the interviews in Whiterun."

And work our way to Windhelm to find a ship for the trip back to Alinor. There's no way in Oblivion we'd be able to get her away overland."

* * *

On the way to Whiterun, they passed a watchtower, and stopped long enough to inspect a nearby statue. It was a female Khajiit clad mostly in Imperial armor but with a mis-matched cuirass, carrying a mace. On the base of the statue was an inscription: "On this spot, the Dragonborn Yssha of Ysshaya, with the aid of the Whiterun Guard, defeated the dragon Mirmulnir, took his soul, and was revealed as Dragonborn. Erected in memory of that event with contributions from the Guards who fought with her."

Nerissa frowned. "Guards paid for this? Given a guard's wages, that's astonishing."

Ungarion nodded. "Intelligence says she's got near-universal respect, and is generally well-liked, but yes ... I'd have expected the local nobility to finance something like this, not guards."

They re-mounted and went on to the city, leaving their horses at the stable and walking up the road and over a drawbridge to get to the gates. They were wearing scholar's robes, which got them a polite reception, along with a question about their business.

"We're doing a history of the Dragonborn," Ungarion replied. "We want to do it while memories are still fresh."

The guard nodded. "Practically everyone in town knows her and her team, at least casually. As researchers, you may even be able to speak to some of the people at Dragonsreach, though you'll have to surrender anything like a weapon, including eating knives."

"Is that true for everyone, or just mer?" Nerissa asked.

"For everyone Housecarl Irileth doesn't recognize," the guard replied. "She's damn near paranoid since the Dragonborn was killed on her watch."

"Understandable," Nerissa said. "We were stopped at the Skyhold border, as well. The guard there recommended the Bannered Mare Inn; could you tell us where it is?"

"Certainly - straight up the hill, far side of the market."

"Thank you."

* * *

As usual when away from Alinor, Ungarion and Nerissa were pretending to be married, as well as being scholars this time, so the innkeeper thought nothing of them wanting a single room. She sent someone upstairs with them to explain something called a "bathroom" - and Nerissa almost squealed in delight at the facilities. A tub and basin with running water, even cold, which wouldn't be a problem for a couple of mages, were nice enough, but the toilet ... that took her breath away. "So this is what the celebration was about, when - "

"We try not to talk about that much," the servant said. "But yes - Whiterun's the first city to be fully plumbed, and we were honoring the man who made it possible."

"One of the Dragonborn's men, we heard," Ungarion said.

"You heard correctly," the servant said. "That was Nevan, the one who arrived from another plane because of a conjuration gone awry."

"Not totally awry," Nerissa said. "At least not for us." She smiled. "I really like water I don't have to carry to a tub, and even more, a non-smelly privy!"

* * *

Author's Note Addendum: For the next three or four months, updates will probably be down to once a week, likely on Fridays. My younger sister dislocated her shoulder and obviously can't drive, so we'll be helping with her transportation. Since we live quite a distance from her, this could take a serious bite out of my writing time. My apologies.


	7. Blizzard in Sun's Height

.

Chapter 7 - Blizzard in Sun's Height

It was perhaps six weeks after the prophecy had been found - on the fifth of Sun's Height, to be exact - that Yssha woke to an unusual chill in the air. After going through her morning clean-up routine, she dressed in her armor and headed for the kitchen and her morning tisane with Rayya.

The housecarl handed her a cup of the steaming beverage. "You're going somewhere, my Thane? You didn't say anything yesterday."

"I am not planning to, but it is chilly for midsummer, and I refuse to wear a nightshirt outside the bed- and bathrooms." She sipped her tisane briefly, then stood back up. "I will return shortly - I want to check outside."

When she opened the front door, she cursed. It was snowing! Not much, barely a dusting on the ground melting swiftly, but a wind was coming up and it felt like the temperature was falling. "When did this start? she asked the guard dragon.

"About half an hour ago, thuri," he replied. "This should not be happening."

"No - one of the prophesied 'storms out of season'. What direction did it come from, do you know?"

"South-west, thuri."

"Dovgrahaak!" Yssha Shouted.

Minutes later, the Skyguard commanders landed. "Geh, thuri?"

She passed along what the guard dragon had told her. "See if you can determine its track, then issue warnings to take shelter. I would like to know where it originates, but it is more important to get the warnings out ahead of it, if possible."

Dovgrahaak took off, climbing steeply. Shortly after he disappeared into the clouds, she heard a full-throated Call. "Odkest nol Valzapor*! Naav* pal! Wah spaal*!" [Blizzard {snow tempest} from Summerset Isles! Warn all! To shelter!]

The guard dragon's team ran out of the stable and mounted. "We'll warn Helgen!" the team leader called as they took off.

Moments later, Odahviing landed. "Where will you shelter, briinah?"

"With my people in Helgen. I am their Jarl, and that is Skyhold's capital, so that is my place. Let me get the rest of the family up and moving, then I ask that you take me there."

"Of course."

Yssha ran back inside, finding Freyr and her team stumbling into the dining room, half-dressed. She told them quickly what was going on. "Get dressed, then pick Bandit Den Inn or Helgen, your choice. I will be going to Helgen."

Freyr and Rayya chose the Inn, the attraction the cavern below Pinewatch had been turned into, so he could play with his friends; the rest opted for Helgen, with Yssha. The clearing work there was done, the Keep repaired, the Riverwood end of the escape tunnel turned into a city gate, and the foundation for the palace had been laid, but otherwise, construction had concentrated on the hydroponics system. That, because of the water supply, had been set up in the tunnel, which was surprisingly pleasant with grow lights added and frostbite spiders cleared out.

By the time they got to Helgen, it was snowing harder, and cold rather than just chilly, and as they entered the Keep, the wind began to strengthen.

"I think we're going to be here for a while," Marcurio said. "How are the food supplies?"

"They should be good," Yssha replied. "Remember, I asked Marcus Jannus, our acting mayor, to stock up until the hydroponics could supply our needs. If he did so, which I trust he did, we should have plenty of dried meat and stored root vegetables to last us for several months, especially with as small a population as we still have. And a few farmers from Falkreath and Whiterun have moved here to tend the hydroponics - Marcus says they like being able to farm indoors out of the weather. Which I cannot blame them for."

Nevan chuckled. "Me, either."

"I just hope everyone who needed shelter got to it in time - the storm was moving fast."

"We can hope, but at this point, that's about all," Marcurio pointed out.

* * *

The unnatural storm didn't subside until past noon the following day. When it did, the temperature began rising as quickly as it had fallen the previous morning, which Yssha feared would mean flooding. As soon as they were able to get the Keep doors open, she called Odahviing and asked for transport to Pinewatch.

She grinned when they landed. She hadn't been here since Karl and Ingrid had moved in, though Rayya had told her about the cavern being converted to an inn, and that the couple were making improvements, with excavation assistance from a couple of the guard dragons.

There were three buildings here now, Pinewatch itself and a smaller building marked Bandit's Den Inn - Office. The third was a stable with two carriages parked outside, which was a bit surprising. She waded through the snow to the original cottage and knocked.

"Come in, it's open!" Ingrid called, and Yssha did so, to see her tenant smiling. "Good greetings, Ysmir - it's wonderful to see you again! Or should I say my Jarl?"

"I prefer Ysmir, please. You have done well with this place. Tell me, how is the Inn doing? It seems an odd place to open one."

"Oh, it is," Ingrid said. "We wouldn't have considered it except for the cavern having been a notorious bandit's headquarters. We get guests from all over Skyrim who are both curious about that and in search of novelty, and we're usually full or close to it. If you ever decide to sell Pinewatch, we'd appreciate a chance to buy it. The children really love it here."

"And you are good neighbors. Certainly I am willing to sell it to you. What would you consider a fair price?"

"More than we can afford just yet. Considering the cavern is a good income producer, though, in a few months we should be able to pay you twenty-five thousand."

Yssha's ears twitched. That was five times what she'd paid - the Inn _must_ be doing well! "Consider it yours, if you can afford a twenty percent down payment."

Ingrid smiled widely and said, "I'll be right back." She went downstairs and returned moments later with a heavy coin purse. "Here's eight thousand. We'll pay you the rest as we get it." She paused. "So I can plan for operating expenses, what will the taxes be like?"

The standard here in Skyrim seemed to be ten percent; at least that was what the Jarls deducted when someone left her an inheritance. "The usual ten percent, I believe, would be proper."

"Good, I'd been making tentative plans on that amount." She looked relieved. "I should have known you wouldn't be as greedy as Jarl Siddgeir."

Yssha chuckle-purred. "He is ... not the sort of example I care to follow. Balgruuf, as both Jarl and High King, is far more to my taste." She paused. "Speaking of whom, I should go see him, and find out how bad the storm was elsewhere, and if there is an adequate number of shelters. Then as soon as I return home, I will sign the deed to Pinewatch over to you and Karl."

"Thank you, Ysmir. Not that there's any rush; we trust you."

"Thank _you_ , Ingrid. That means much to me."

* * *

Yssha decided to get Odahviing to land just outside Whiterun rather than at Dragonsreach, so she could chat with a few friends on her way up. Adrienne was busy, so she went next door, where an obviously-pregnant Lydia greeted her with a smile. "Come in, my Thane! Let me get you and yours something to drink."

"Thank you!" Yssha and her team settled at the small dining table, and Lydia pulled up a chair for herself. "You are looking well, my friend - and better yet, happy."

"I am," Lydia said. "The healers are a bit of a pain, but I want a healthy baby, so I tolerate them. May I ask a favor?"

"Always," Yssha said. She might not grant it, but ...

"If it's a girl, may I name her after you?"

"I would be honored," Yssha replied. "You will let me know when the babe is born, I hope. I plan to be an indulgent auntie."

Lydia laughed. "Certainly, my Thane - how could you think otherwise? And I understand you're a mother yourself."

"Adoptive only, so far. But Freyr is a good boy ... well, most of the time ... and eventually I will be free to have kits of my own." She smiled. "I am sure you can understand that desire."

"Easily. Did you know Arcadia has managed to snare Farengar?"

"No!" Yssha managed an almost-human-sounding laugh. "She was threatening to test a love potion on him, the first time I visited her. So it worked, did it?"

"If that was how she did it, most definitely. She's only a week or so behind me, baby-wise. She still owns and runs the shop, but now she actually lives in Dragonsreach with him."

They traded more news for about half an hour, then Yssha and her team left to continue their trip up to Dragonsreach.

She chatted with various people, buying a few things for Rayya and Freyr, selling a few others, until she got to the park around the Gildergreen, where the statue and shrine of Talos stood, with Heimskr doing his usual impassioned speech.

Well, not quite usual. When he caught sight of her, he tossed in something she'd never heard before. "And we thank You for returning to walk among us again! We know you love us, but we did not expect this grace!"

She turned and approached him. "Heimskr, stop that. I am not Tiber Septim returned; I am myself, and I will not have Talos' worshippers misled!"

"But ... but ... " he sputtered. "You died and returned, and when you did, so did that!" The priest pointed to a shrine that now shared space with Talos' at the feet of the statue.

Yssha groaned. She had been warned of this, and it looked like her divine zeymah had decided to save her from a shrine as inaccurate as his combination of sword and axe. This was a blatant adaptation of his statue, with a dragon-headed Khajiit in dragon-scale armor braced on a mace.

"Please, tell me it does not work as a normal shrine," she came close to begging.

Heimskr looked almost smug. "I can't truthfully say that, Ysmir. Your blessings are sought almost as often as His."

Yssha muttered under her breath, invoking curse-words that would have shocked even a Legionnaire - at least coming from her - then turned her attention back to Heimskr. "All right. It seems I must accept that. But if you try naming me as a Divine, which I am most certainly not, I will return and beg my zeymah to convince you of that."

He looked frightened. "Very well, Ysmir. I will be careful. But ... you cannot blame me for what people may choose to believe on their own."

"I will not. We are agreed, then."

It was a relief to enter Dragonsreach, out of hearing of Heimskr's preaching, but thinking about priests reminded her that she still hadn't found out what Danica had wanted, that day she had avoided the priestess because she had been feeling overwhelmed by all the tasks she'd aready taken on. She still had a number of obligations, but she also felt guilty for her neglect. After all, look what Danica had done, and was still doing, for Lydia. But that could wait until after she spoke to Balgruuf.

He waved her forward as soon as he caught sight of her. "Skyrim owes you yet another debt for the Skyguards' warning, Ysmir. We lost livestock, but I haven't had any reports of other deaths, just a few injuries. The lack of deaths is probably too good to be true, but as of now, that's the case - and even if there are a few, that's far better than we'd normally do in such a storm."

"I am very glad of that," Yssha said. "I was concerned - were there enough shelters?"

Balgruuf nodded. "Enough and to spare. People were happy enough to have a safe place for themselves and their families that there was only a little complaining about loss of livestock. And the meat from those is being preserved and stored."

"How widespread was it?"

"All of eastern Skyrim," Balgruuf told her. "The western part only got a little light snow, but from Falkreath to Windhelm, it was the full strength of the blizzard. It did taper off before it got to Solstheim, though."

"Bad enough, but not as bad as I had feared," Yssha said.

"I feel the same way," Balgruuf said, then changed the subject. "What are your next plans?"

"I believe Danica Purespring has something she wishes of me, from shortly after I came to Whiterun. I will see what it is, and if we can, take care of it."

Balgruuf smiled. "I'm pretty sure she wants you to restore the Gildergreen. It got hit by lightning during the Civil War, and she's been too busy with healing since to do anything about it."

Yssha knew better than to say that shouldn't be too difficult, so she didn't. "I know nothing about healing trees, but I shall speak to her anyway. Perhaps Kynareth has given her special knowledge."

* * *

Yssha waited until Danica was finished with her patient, then approached. "King Balgruuf believes you wish me to restore the Gildergreen. But I know nothing of tree cultivation."

"The Gildergreen, yes." Danica sighed. "It's a bit of an eyesore at the moment. More of a problem for the pilgrims than for me, but not many of them around anymore."

"What do pilgrims have to do with a tree?"

"The Gildergreen was planted as a seedling in the early years of Whiterun. Disciples of Kynareth could sense something holy in it, and traveled far to hear the winds of the goddess in its branches. They built the temple. Of course, not as many pilgrims these days. A big dead tree isn't very inspiring if you're coming to worship the divine of wind and rains. Kynareth gives life, and we need a living tree to be her symbol."

"How can that be done?"

"We need sap from the Eldergleam. That's an old tree. Very old. They say it was a seedling when the first men were arriving from Atmora, thousands of years ago. The sap is precious. It can restore barren fields or bring life to rocks. I can use it to repair the Gildergreen, so we can worship properly again.

"Trees like this never really die, you see. They only slumber. I think if we had some of the sap from the parent tree, we could wake up its child. But even if you could get to the Eldergleam, you couldn't tap it. Not with any normal metal."

"Then how can it be done?"

"Eldergleam is older than metal, from a time before men or elves. To even affect it, you have to tap into the old magic. You'll have to deal with the Hagravens. I've heard about a weapon they've made for sacrificing Spriggans. It's called 'Nettlebane.' The hags terrify me, or I would have gone after it myself."

"Hagravens. I am not terribly fond of them myself, but they are not as much of a problem as some others. We will retrieve Nettlebane for you."

"Your spirit is strong, Ysmir. Kynareth's winds will guide your path. It's held in a Hagraven nest called Orphan Rock."

"We will go there in the morning," Yssha promised, then she and the team left.


	8. The Blessings of Nature

Chapter 8 - The Blessings of Nature

The next morning, Odahviing gape-grinned when Yssha asked for transport to Orphan Rock. "That was a hagraven gathering spot last time I saw it. It is not enclosed, so may I help you with them?"

"Certainly," Yssha replied. "We are trying to find Nettlebane, that we may restore the Gildergreen."

Odahviing nodded. "that is a good thing, thuri. Akatosh is Bormahu, but Kynareth is the provider of the winds we ride. Try not to hurt the Eldergleam more than you absolutely must, lest you anger Her."

Yssha chuckled as she and the team mounted. "You know I will not, zeymah. I wish it were not necessary to hurt it at all, but Priestess Danica says its sap is needed to restore the Gildergreen."

"That ... may not be the case," Odahviing said thoughtfully. "But let us get Nettlebane first, as a precaution, then talk to Paarthurnax. The hagravens usually have witches around as well, ones who want to become hagravens themselves, and they usually have the trail trapped, so we will go directly to the top."

They were attacked as soon as they got within range of Destruction spells cast by the witches. Odahviing reacted before his riders could, flaming all four, then a hagraven at the top of Orphan Rock. He landed so they could search the body, where Yssha found Nettlebane, and the team found a couple of chests as well.

Once they were satisfied they had everything of value, they re-mounted and Odahviing flew them to Throat of the World. "Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin, and to your fahdonne," Paarthurnax greeted them.

"Drem yol lok, Paarthurnax," Yssha replied. "I have been tasked with restoring the Gildergreen, which was hit by lightning. The priestess there says the way to do so is by tapping the Eldergleam for sap, and we have retrieved the blade needed to do so. I was hoping you might know a less damaging way of healing the Gildergreen, however."

"Hmmm." Paarthurnax thought for some time before replying. "I do not, but you honor all of the Nine, do you not?"

When she nodded, he continued. "In that case, I would suggest praying to Kynareth for guidance. Or perhaps praying to the Eldergleam itself once you are in its Sanctuary, since it is known to respond to worship."

Yssha nodded. "I will do so, then, although it will feel strange praying to a tree. Almost as strange as having a Dovahkiin shrine appear at the foot of the Talos statue in Whiterun."

"A Dovahkiin shrine?" Paarthurnax said, surprised. "So ... is it effective?"

"Heimskr tells me it is," Yssha replied. "And from time to time I am asked for a blessing, which I give in the name of the Nine. I am not a Divine and will not pretend otherwise, though Talos tells me I will be worshiped in spite of that."

Paarthurnax chuckled. "Being worshipped is not something one notices that much, in my experiences. I would visit one of our temples or priests occasionally, and the offerings were usually quite tasty, but I wasn't bothered by prayers or petitions from my other worshippers - probably because dragonkind is not really divine."

Yssha chuckled. "Thank you for that reassurance, lotzeymah. I shall try not to let it disturb me, especially since Talos seems to think it a matter of joor nature, especially humans. But it still seems peculiar."

"You will get used to it, in time," Paarthurnax promised. "And i am told you have been given Helgen - I am surprised you would want it, considering you were almost beheaded there, before Alduin attacked."

"Alduin's attack is precisely why I wanted it," Yssha told him. "My long-term task seems, as best I can determine, to restore and then maintain what he destroyed ... though I doubt he had anything to do with the Falmers' fall, unless he had connections I am unaware of with the Dwemer."

"I know of none," Paarthurnax said. "They were not our worshippers, and they lived where we could not go, so we essentially ignored each other."

* * *

Odahviing landed them just outside Eldergleam Sanctuary. As they dismounted, he said wistfully, "I wish I could go in there with you. I understand it is very beautiful, and the Eldergleam at its center is the oldest thing, other than dragons, on Taazokaan, sacred to Kynareth. I envy you the privilege of visiting it."

"I understand. But if we are successful, you will be able to visit a living Gildergreen, at least."

Odahviing nodded. "We shall have to content ourselves with that, yes."

Yssha cocked her head. "I did not realize the dov honored any but Bormahu, yet you wish to visit Kynareth's sacred spots, so I must have missed something."

"Probably only how much we who are sworn to you are influenced by your attitudes. I believe when I was very young, I worshipped all of the Eight, but when Alduin became thur, all but Bormahu were displaced. Now, since we have you, we return to the worship of the others. And Talos, of course."

He paused, grinning at her. "Did you know that he was thur to a few of us, briefly? He promised security in return for our fealty, but it was a promise he was unable to keep."

"No, I did not. I regret that his protection was so ineffective."

"Well, most of us were still primarily under Alduin's influence, so it is understandable. The shift to a new thur's mindset, as you know, is not instantaneous."

Yes, she knew that, as evidenced by the newer souls she'd absorbed, especially those who had come from Miraak. Fortunately, those had been settling down lately. Even her protector, Sahrotaar, seldom came to the fore any longer. She missed him, even as she wished him a peaceful rest. "We shall go, then. Pray to Kynareth with us, that I may be guided to a way which will restore the Gildergreen without harm to Eldergleam."

"I shall, Thuri." Once they were inside the Sanctuary, Odahviing crouched as low as he could, stretching to get his head - which barely fit - inside behind them. He might not be able to enter the Sanctuary itself, but at least he could breathe its air and taste its water.

"Would you look at that!" Marcurio exclaimed as they passed the entrance, and Serana gasped.

"This is even more beautiful than Ancestor Glade, and the feeling of serenity is even stronger," she said in an awed tone.

Yssha agreed. "It is possibly the closest thing I have seen in Mundus to the glory of Sovngarde or Stormhaven."

"I agree, but that doesn't mean it's all that close," Marcurio said. "Compared to Sovngarde, even this is drab and lifeless."

"Father gave up something even better than this, for Molag Bal and the ugliness of Coldharbour?" Serana snarled, and turned to Nevan. "After seeing this ... I don't think I want to risk turning into a pile of dust to be used in someone's potion, and I certainly don't want an eternity in Coldharbour instead of a place that makes this beauty seem drab." She looked around them again. "I'd like to correct that decision he made on my behalf. Would you mind?"

"You want to give up being a vampire?" Nevan studied her carefully, but she seemed determined. "It's your decision, my beauteous Lady Serana. I'll support you, whichever way you decide."

"Then when we're done here, let's go to find Falion in Morthal. I hear he knows how to cure vampirism."

Yssha had hear the conversation behind her, and smiled as she led the group forward, across a rope bridge over a rushing stream, then climbed plank stairs toward one of Eldergleam's roots, praying as they walked.

She hadn't sensed any response from her prayers to Kynareth by the time they reached the huge root, so she removed her gauntlets and laid her bare hands on it. "Eldergleam, we wish to restore your child, the Gildergreen, which was damaged by lightning. We ask that you grant us passage to pray at your base."

Slowly, with groans of wood shifting reluctantly, the root rose, and Yssha smiled. She hadn't had to use Nettlebane!

The same happened with the next three roots, then they were at the base of the Eldergleam. Yssha went to her knees, inclining her head toward the gigantic tree, arms crossed at her chest in reverence. "We thank you, Eldergleam, and pray for your continuing grace. The priestess Danica said to stab you with Nettlebane, and retrieve your sap, but I would much prefer to avoid that, if it is at all possible to do something less damaging to restore the Gildergreen."

She sensed gigantic and very slow approval. A gentle breeze sprang up, and she seemed to hear words as the Eldergleam's leaves rustled.

"Take My Child, Then." A sapling sprouted and grew to perhaps her own height beside her, then it was uprooted, along with a root ball.. "Anoint It With My Sap, And Water It With My Water. Come Spring, Our Mother Will Bless It."

Yssha looked around, finding a container of sap beside her. She put it in her pack, then, very carefully and reverently, picked up the sapling. It and its root-ball were heavy, but within her strength, and she told the others to gather as much of the water flowing through the Sanctuary as possible. To her absolute astonishment, spriggans lined the way out of the Sanctuary, not only not hostile, but bowing as they passed. She returned the courtesy as she passed them, her team filling containers with water from the stream when it came close enough to their path.

When they were back outside, she showed the sapling to Odahviing, and he ducked his head. "You have done well indeed, thuri. Mount, and we go to Danica."

* * *

Danica was speaking with an upset-looking man when Yssha carried the sapling into the Temple.

"What is it... what has happened to the Gildergreen?" the man asked. "I have traveled long here to worship beneath its branches."

"It was taken by a lightning strike," Danica replied. "I haven't had time to deal with it, since I have been having to deal with the wounded from the war as well as our more usual patients. Healing the injured and ill is my work as well, you know."

"Please, don't just let it stay like this," the man urged. "It's disgraceful."

"It will not," Danica assured him. "The Dragonborn is on her way to find Nettlebane, and when she returns with it, I'll ask her to go to Eldergleam Sanctuary for some of its sap."

Yssha cleared her throat, which caught their attention. "Things did not go quite according to your plan, I am afraid. We have already been to the Sanctuary, and the Eldergleam gave us this when I prayed." She nodded to the sapling, which she was carrying like a baby.

Danica looked dubious. "I asked you for sap, Draonborn. This is anything but. How can a tiny sapling replace the mighty Gildergreen?"

The man, however, smiled happily. "The Eldergleam has blessed us with a sapling, Priestess. The Dragonborn said she prayed, and this was the answer. You must see that the true blessings of nature lie in renewal, not a slavish maintenance."

Danica nodded, then sighed. "You are correct, of course. It can be hard to hear the winds of Kynareth when all you hear are the cries and moans of the injured and ill in the temple. Death feeds new life. I'm sure that, in time, this little sapling will grow into a new Gildergreen that will tower over Whiterun." She turned to Yssha. "I may not live to see this little one grow into a new Gildergreen, but I can be remembered as the woman who planted it. I thank you. And may Kynareth's soft rains fall before you."

"Do not be dismayed," Yssha said softly. "I have sap as well, a second gift of the Eldergleam. Plant this sapling where the Gildergreen stands, anoint it with the sap, and water it with the Sanctuary's waters. If that is done, as we were commanded, we were promised that come Spring, Kynareth will bless it."

"Be it as She wishes, then." Danica sighed, then smiled. "Thank you again, Dragonborn."

The man bowed to Yssha. "I was going to continue to Eldergleam Sanctuary, but now I believe I'll stay here until Spring and tend the sapling. May I have the sap? And do you have any of that water?"

"Yes to both." She gave Danica the sapling, then handed him the sap and her waterskin. The other three gave him theirs, as well. "That should suffice until you or someone else can go there for more."

* * *

In a simple if lengthy ceremony the following day, the old Gildergreen was removed, the sapling planted in its place, and the man - Yssha had learned his name was Maurice Jondrelle - took up his self-imposed duty of tending to it.


	9. Serana's Decision

Chapter 9 - Serana's Decision

Before she and Nevan left the following morning, Serana spoke to Yssha. "The same rumor that suggested Falion knows how to cure vamirism also said he charges a steep price for it. Would you happen to have a filled black soul gem I could buy?"

"Buy?" Yssha was a bit surprised. "You are Family, so you need not buy one. Come up to the enchantry, and I will gladly give you one."

Serana followed her up the stairs and into the enchantry, where Yssha went to one of her strongboxes and removed two of the valuable gems. "Just in case."

"Thanks," Serana said. "I'd like to talk to Nevan on the way, so can we borrow the carriage?"

"You are more than welcome, and of course." Yssha smiled. "May I say, without offense, what I think of your decision?"

Serana nodded. "I ... hope it doesn't upset you. I know my vampiric strength is useful, but the prospect of Couldharbour, especially when none of the rest of you will be going there, is ... no longer acceptable. But it may upset Mother."

Yssha hugged her Clan-sister. "No, it does not upset me, Serana. I am delighted that you have made what must have been a difficult decision to rejoin us ... well, most of us ... in mortality. That way, from my selfish viewpoint, I will be able to see you from time to time in the afterlife."

* * *

Serana rode quietly for a bit, before turning to Nevan and asking, "Will my lack of strength after this bother you? Because if it will, I won't do it."

He smiled at her. "I like your strength, of course," he said. "When you give it up, it'll probably modify our lovemaking, yes. But the choice must be yours, and we'll adapt. I've made love to Standard women before, and satisfied both of us without hurting them."

She grinned. "Good, because I'm not going to give you up, which is another reason to become human again. And I may surprise you. I won't be as strong as I am now, but I wasn't exactly a weakling before I was turned."

* * *

When they got to Morthal, they stopped at the Moorside Inn to ask where Falion could be found, and were directed to his house. As soon as they entered, he greeted them. "If you are here to purchase, I have many spells available. There are many things here that cannot be found elsewhere."

Serana smiled. "At the moment, we're more interested in your services than your merchandise. I've heard you're an expert on vampires and vampirism."

Falion gave her a piercing glance. "I know many things. I have studied things beyond the reach of most humans, traveled the Oblivion planes, seen things one should not see. I have met Daedra and Dwemer and everything in between and I know enough to see a vampire where others would see a man."

"You're right," Serana said. "But how can you be so sure?"

"I met several of your kind during my studies of life-extending magics," he explained. "I even considered becoming a vampire myself. In the end, though, I decided that vampirism would endanger my ward Agni, which would defeat my intentions."

"I've also heard that you can cure vampirism. That's why I'm here."

"It is possible, yes," Falion said. "I know a ritual, but I've only performed it a few times. It requires a filled black soul gem. You will need to kill someone. When you have a gem and have filled it, return to me and I will perform the ritual. I will return life to your dead body, vampire."

"I'd heard that as well, so I came prepared." Serana reached into her pack and handed him one of the gems Yssha had given her.

"Very well. Meet me at the summoning circle in the marsh at dawn. We shall banish the creature you have become."

"Summoning circle?" Serana asked. "Neither of us has been in Morthal before, so I have no idea where it is."

"Then come along, and I'll show you." He led them out of town and into the marsh, to something that looked more like an undersized dragon mound than anything else she could think of. "Here it is. Come back at dawn, and I'll take care of your problem."

"We'll see you then," Serana agreed, and she and Nevan left. They spent the day wandering around the rather depressing and not particularly hospitable town, agreeing that even Riften was a more welcoming place. "This has to be the poorest hold in Skyrim," she said when they went to the inn for supper and a room.

Nevan nodded. "One lumber mill seems to be the only source of outside income, unless the inn has more customers than it seems to. Which I find doubtful."

"It's not a prosperous or scenic enough town to attract anyone who doesn't have to be here," Serana agreed.

The conversation tapered off, both of them preoccupied with what was going to happen at dawn. That, boredom, and the threat of Lurbuk, the Orc bard singing, sent them to their room early. They woke before dawn, making their way to the summoning circle.

Falion was already there, and greeted them with, "Good, you're here."

Serana nodded. "I'm eager to get this over with, now I've made the decision."

"As you desire. Stand in the center of the circle." As she did so, he turned to Nevan. "Stay still, and do not speak."

Nevan nodded, obeying.

Then Falion began chanting. "I call upon Oblivion realms. The home of those who are not our ancestors. Answer my plea!

"As in death there is new life, in Oblivion there is a beginning for that which has ended.

"I call forth that power! Accept the soul that we offer!

"As the sun ends the night, end the darkness of this soul, return life to the creature you see before you!"

Serana stiffened as she was bathed in green light, then relaxed when it faded. "Am I ... human again?" she asked Falion.

"Quite," Falion said with certainty. "Your eyes are normal again - and quite a pretty green, at that."

"Thank you," she said. "I like this - I even _feel_ alive. I'd ... forgotten what it could be like." She went to Nevan and kissed him. "How's that?"

Nevan glanced to Falion for permission and got a nod, so he hugged her and returned the kiss. "Nice - you're warm! I think I'm going to enjoy tonight even more than usual." Then he took a necklace from his pack and put it around her neck. "You'll need this, now that you've lost your vampiric immunity to disease."

"Oh," she said. "I hadn't thought about that. Thanks! Let's get home and let the rest know."

Both of them thanked Falion again, and left the marsh, looking for a solid spot big enough for a dragon to land. When they did, Nevan dug into his pack again for a dragon signal and spread it out, then they waited for a patrol to spot them.

It didn't take long, and it wasn't a patrol; it was Odahviing. He studied Serana while Nevan picked up and repacked the signal cloth. "You are no longer sosnaak," he said approvingly. "This is a good thing for our family, brod-briinah."

Serana chuckled. "Clan-sister. I like that, though I never thought I'd be calling a dragon my brother. Last time I was human, you folks were gods to most of us."

Odahviing rumbled the dovah version of a chuckle, himself. "Nor, back then, would I have thought to be part of a joor family. If I had considered it, I would most likely have thought it abhorrent. But under thur Yssha, it is ... pleasant."

This time it was Nevan who chuckled. "Things are changing, aren't they? I never realized how much a change of sovereigns could do ... back in my first home, sovereigns were chosen who were already determined to retain the rights of their subjects, so from one to another, not much changed in that sense. Though technology changed other things pretty quickly. When I was grabbed, there was a project going to get to another galaxy ... I sometimes wonder how it went. But hells ... I'm getting used to living in a single province of a single continent, instead of flying all through an Empire of six thousand worlds."

He paused, then grinned. "To be honest, with Serana and dragons, I think I've gotten to actually prefer it. And that surprises me. When I first came here, I'd never have believed that would be possible." He paused. "Come to think of it, there're a lot of things that've happened that I wouldn't have believed possible. Like becoming a magic-using warrior using only low-tech weapons."

"A spell-sword, in our terms," Serana said. "And a damned good one, at that."

The two mounted, and Odahviing flew them home. Lakeview Manor was decorated for a party, and everyone was waiting outside for them. When they slid off Odahviing's neck, Yssha ran up to hug Serana and lick her cheek. "Welcome back to humanity, my friend!"

"Thanks - it's good to be back. But I hadn't expected you to make a big fuss about it."

"Auntie 'Rana!" Freyr was the next to run up, and she went to a knee to embrace and kiss him. "Hey, you're warm! Nice!"

To her surprise, he kissed her and handed her an amulet, before demanding, "You gonna marry Unca Nevan now?"

Serana choked in surprise at that question, and Yssha groaned. "Freyr! Don't be rude."

She turned to Serana. "I am sorry, fahdoni. And I do not know where he got the amulet."

Serana laughed. "It's okay. At his age, he'll say anything that comes to mind. In another couple of years, I may worry about that sort of thing. Anyway, I don't know how much Nevan knows about Nord marriage customs, so the amulet may mean nothing to him if I were to wear it."

Rayya overheard that, so she approached Nevan and gestured him toward the grove that hid the smelter from view, and followed him under the trees. "I believe there is something important you need to learn, warrior."

"Then enlighten me, please."

"First, how much do you know about Nord marriage customs, or the significance of an amulet of Mara?

Nevan was puzzled. "Nothing, and nothing."

Rayya sighed, telling him the significance of those particular amulets.

That didn't help Nevan's puzzlement. "But why get married? We're happy as it is, and marriage isn't something Sandeman warriors do. Our Other caste does, of course, but exclusivity's not something a warrior can afford, so the warrior caste simply doesn't marry."

Rayya planted fists on her hips, and glared at him. "Maybe not in your Empire, warrior, but this is Tamriel. She would be disgraced if she should get pregnant or give birth out of wedlock. And that could easily happen, if you continue having relations now that she's human again. Inside this household, it wouldn't matter, but the rest of Tamriel would take a different view." Rayya paused, taking a deep breath. "Which is why to get married ... if you care for her at all, you don't want her accused of being a whore or birthing a bastard, do you?"

And they certainly wouldn't be giving up that pleasure. Nevan bowed to the housecarl, acknowledging her greater knowledge of this culture. "I won't let her be hurt in any way I can prevent. So yes, if she actually wears the amulet, I'll propose to her."

"Good. Now let's get back to the party."

When they did, Rayya approached Serana. "He knows now," she said quietly.

"You didn't need to do that," Serana said, but she smiled.

"My duties to my Thane include protecting her and, by extension, her family," Rayya said. "That includes protecting your reputations. Which in turn meant he had to know what having a child out of wedlock would do to yours."

Serana chuckled. "That's really not a problem. I may specialize in Destruction magic, but I know enough Restoration and Alteration to prevent conception unless I want it, and I agree with Yssha about not having babies until the current war is over. But thank you anyway." She paused, and grinned. "Did he give you any clues how he'd react?"

Rayya returned the grin. "Don't wear the amulet until you're ready to get married."

"Oh, really? Then let's turn this into a betrothal party as well." Serana glanced around, seeing Nevan talking to Yssha, and put the amulet on before joining them.

Yssha and Nevan saw it at the same time, and both smiled. "Will you marry me, Lady Serana Volkihar?" Nevan asked softly, while Yssha purred.

"Very gladly, Nevan darLeras, warrior of Sandeman." As they kissed, Freyr ran up, cheering.

"But this one will not be as rushed as mine and Marcurio's," Yssha said firmly. "Brother Maramal was in such a hurry that my parents had to miss mine; there is no reason for your mother to miss yours. And we will take the time to make it memorable."

* * *

Author's Note: In the game, Falion says he's never performed the ritual, but with as many unwilling vampires as are implied, I find that a bit implausible. So I changed it.

And it seems Nevan is still learning about his adopted culture. Things I never planned on are starting to happen yet again ... sigh. Characters who decide to go off-plot can be a pain.


	10. Waking Nightmares

Chapter 10 - Waking Nightmares

Yssha was just finishing her pre-breakfast tisane with Rayya when she heard a knock on the door, and Ralof came in - a privilege she allowed dragon-riders. "What is it, Team-Leader?"

"Fusmulgar just landed, and says she has a message from King Balgruuf. Medium-urgent, she says."

Yssha swallowed the last of her tisane, and rose. "Thank you. I see Ahkrinbo has managed to get guard duty here again."

Ralof laughed. "I think it was more to shut up his requests for it than anything else, truly. He got us assigned here permanently, because he likes Freyr and his friends. I personally think he's training them for when my people and I aren't combat-capable any longer."

Yssha nodded. Dragons tended to think in a much longer time-frame than joorre, so that wouldn't surprise her. "Really? Then you are, for all practical purposes, members of my household."

"I'll start stocking extra supplies, then," Rayya said. "Ah, you said people, rather than men? Should I prepare for a woman, or non-human?"

"Khajiit," Ralof replied. "When Sverri was killed, Ahkrinbo picked one of the new recruits, a mage who claimed to know Dovahkiin. J'zargo."

Yssha was torn between laughter and a groan. She liked J'zargo, and he was a competent and creative mage, but he'd almost gotten her killed testing a special flame cloak spell shortly after she'd joined the College. Well, she had to admit, not the spell itself; that had been most effective. But she'd used it near Marcurio, before getting the Companion's Insight, and he'd become hostile until she left long enough for him to calm down enough that she could apologize and explain.

She settled for a chuckle. "Yes, I know him. Just be very cautious if he asks you to test any spells for him."

"Master Tolfdir sent him with a note to that effect," Ralof said. "He hasn't asked yet, though, and he's damn good with Destruction spells; I'm glad to have him on the team."

"It is well, then. Let me go see what Fusmulgar's message is."

She went outside, and saw the female dovah resting beside Ahkrinbo. "You have a message for me, Fusmulgar?"

The dovah rose to her haunches. "Yes, Dovahkiin. Lotjun Balgruuf has received a petition for aid from Bronjun Brina of the Pale to investigate a nightmare epidemic in Dawnstar. He thinks, from her description, a Daedric Prince may be involved."

"Tell him I will do so, then, if you would. We will leave for Dawnstar as soon as we have eaten and armed ourselves."

* * *

Yssha found Jarl Brina in the White Hall, and bowed to her when she was shown to the throne. "Lotjun Balgruuf said you think you have a Daedric Prince problem here, my Jarl."

Brina chuckled. "He thinks so, at any rate, and he could well be right. You've come to Dawnstar at a bad time, but I'm glad of your presence, Dragonborn. Tempers are ... fiery."

Yssha frowned. "Can you tell me more?'

Brina sighed. "Not a single man or woman in Dawnstar has gotten a good night's rest in days. We keep having the same nightmare, over and over. If people aren't tired, they're angry, and if they aren't angry, they're afraid. It's made keeping order a mess. I hear Mara has sent one of her priests, name of Erandur, to the inn to try to calm people down, but I don't know how much words will do now."

"Then we will go to the inn, and speak to Her priest." Yssha smiled. "Lady Mara is most generous, so if She has sent a priest, the problem is solvable." Which didn't mean easy, just possible.

The Windpeak Inn was near the White Hall, so they were there within moments. Inside, they found Erandur trying to reassure the town's residents. "Everyone, please. I'm doing what I can to end these nightmares. In the meantime, all I ask is that you remain strong and put your trust in Lady Mara."

Yssha approached him and bowed respectfully. "Brother Erandur?" When he nodded, she continued. "Can you tell us more about the nightmares this town is suffering from?"

"These dreams are manifestations created by the Daedric Lord Vaermina," he replied. "She has an awful hunger for our memories. In return, she leaves behind nightmares, not unlike a cough marks a serious illness. I must end her terrible influence over these people before the damage becomes permanent."

She couldn't remember Grams saying anything about Vaermina, other than her being one of the Daedric Princes, so she asked, "Can you tell me more about her?"

Erandur nodded. "Vaermina resides in a strange realm known as Quagmire... a nightmarish land where reality shifts upon itself in seemingly impossible ways. From her citadel at the center, she reaches forth to collect our memories, leaving nothing in return apart from visions of horror and despair."

"No one knows what she does with the stolen memories," he added after a moment. "Perhaps she collects them for display like works of art in a nonsensical art gallery. Whatever the case may be, her intentions are far from benevolent."

"I see. How can the problem be solved, then?"

"I need to return to the source of the problem, to Nightcaller Temple. Perhaps you'd be willing to assist me in that regard?"

"We are here for that purpose, but you said 'return'? You have been there before?"

"I've already said too much. I would simply ask that you trust me and help me end Dawnstar's nightmares. "

That was suspicious, Yssha thought, but she held her peace. "Let us go, then."

"Mara be praised! Nightcaller Temple is only a short walk from Dawnstar. Come, we must hurry."

Once they were out of town and climbing toward the Temple, though, he became more talkative. "The tower on that hill is our destination. People around here call it the Tower of the Dawn. I'm not familiar with the tower's history, but it was deserted for quite a long time before Nightcaller Temple was established inside. When the temple was active the priests would rarely be seen in Dawnstar. They preferred to live a solitary existence. The temple's been abandoned for decades now.

"Ironic isn't it - a ruin within a ruin? There's a small shrine to Mara I established inside the tower's entry hall. I was hoping to seek spiritual guidance from Her. Perhaps my prayers were answered by your arrival. Follow me, it's this way. It feels good to finally have a chance to help these people. Helplessly watching them suffer has been difficult."

As they neared the entrance, they were attacked by three frost trolls, but that sort of thing had become routine for the team, and only slowed them briefly.

Before Erandur opened the door, he gave them a warning. "Years ago, this temple was raided by an orc war party seeking revenge ... they were being plagued by nightmares just like the people of Dawnstar are now."

"Were they successful?" Nevan asked.

"No. Knowing they could never defeat the orcs, the priests of Vaermina released what they call 'The Miasma,' putting everyone to sleep."

"What exactly does the Miasma do?" Serana asked.

"The Miasma was created by the priests of Vaermina for their rituals. It's a gas that places the affected in a deep sleep. Because the rituals would last for months or even years, the Miasma was designed to slow down the aging process."

That didn't make sense, Yssha thought. How could people who were sleeping take part in a ritual? Though Vaermina was Prince of Dreams, so maybe her devotees participated that way.

"Stay alert," he cautioned them. "I'm concerned that when this place is unsealed, the Miasma will dissipate and they'll awaken, orcs and priests alike."

Yssha frowned. "Is the gas itself dangerous?"

"Sadly, yes. The longer an individual is exposed to the Miasma, the more the mind can become damaged. Those who've been under the effect of it for extended periods of time have been known to lose their minds entirely. In some cases, a few never awoke at all."

With that, he opened the door and they all entered. He led the way to the back wall . "Give me just a moment, and I'll have this open."

He cast a spell, and part of the wall turned purple, revealing a doorway. He led them through it, then to a barred observation area. "Now I can show you the source of the nightmares. Over here."

Looking down, Yssha saw something glowing in the dark. "Behold the Skull of Corruption," Erandur said. "The source of Dawnstar's woes. We must reach the inner sanctum and destroy it. Come, there's no time to lose."

It wasn't long before they reached a doorway, but it was blocked by a barrier, and Erandur cursed. "Damn it. The priests must have activated this barrier when the Miasma was released."

"That barrier looks difficult to breach," Ysssha commented.

"Impossible, actually. Hmm, I wonder ... There may be a way to bypass the barrier, but I must check their library and confirm it can be done."

"You seem to know an awful lot about the place," Nevan said, suspicious.

Erandur sighed. "I suppose there's no point in concealing the truth any longer. My knowledge of this temple comes from personal experience. I was a priest of Vaermina." He paused briefly at Yssha's expression. "And what would you have me say? Sorry for following the misguided teachings of a mad Divine? Sorry for stealing memories from children? Do you realize when the orcs attacked, I was only concerned with myself? I fled ... and left my brothers and sisters behind to die. I've spent the last few decades living in regret and seeking redemption from Mara. And by Her Benevolence, I will right my wrongs."

Yssha nodded. The Divines did indeed redeem the truly repentant, which seemed to be the case with Erandur. He continued. "I still have my key to the library. Whenever you're ready, let's move on."

"A moment, please," Yssha said. "I would like to try something." She'd discovered there was no need to be loud to use a Shout that affected only herself, so she didn't bother warning Erandur to cover his ears. "Feim Zii Gron!" She extended her hand to the barrier, but as usual in Skyrim, the easy way didn't work; Become Ethereal couldn't get her through the barrier. She sighed. "To the library, then."

As they entered the library, Orcs and devotees began to awaken, attacking immediately. Thanks to Erandur's warning, the team was ready, and went into action. Once their foes were dead, Erandur spoke again. "Barring any more interruptions, perhaps we can locate the information I need. We're looking for a book of alchemical recipes called _The Dreamstride_. The tome bears the likeness of Vaermina on the cover. It should be here somewhere." The team split up to search, and Erandur's tone became one of regret. "This library used to be filled with arcane volumes. Now look at it; almost everything's been burned. I hope the tome we need is still intact."

It was maybe five minutes when Marcurio called out from the upper level. "Found it!"

Moments later, he was back downstairs. "Let me take a look," Erandur said.

Marcurio handed it over, and the priest began reading. A few minutes later, he exclaimed, "Mara be praised! There is a way past the barrier to the inner sanctum. It involves a liquid known as Vaermina's Torpor."

"Is that a type of potion?" Serana asked.

"Yes. The Torpor grants an ability the priests of Vaermina called 'The Dreamstride,' using dreams to travel distances in the real world."

"That sounds amazing," Yssha commented.

"Quite amazing, yes. Alchemy and the blessings of a Divine distilled down into a ingestible liquid. Sadly, I have yet to see it function in person."

Yssha wouldn't have called a Daedric Prince a Divine; it seemed insulting to the Nine. But she reminded herself that they had similar strength, and Erandur had started out as Vaermina's priest, so perhaps for him it was natural.

"As a sworn priest of Mara, the elixir won't work for me," he continued. The Torpor will only work for Priests of Vaermina, or the unaffiliated."

Yssha wasn't a priest, so she supposed that technically speaking, she was unaffiliated. "What will the Dreamstride feel like?"

"You'll be viewing the memory of another through your own eyes and with your own body. Those around you will perceive you as normal and you will find the words you utter may not be your own. Thanks to all of these odd principles, there is quite a lot of debate as to whether this is really a dream or just the machinations of Vaermina."

"That does not sound as bad as I feared." She'd been "borrowed" before, so she had some idea what she was getting into. "Where can we find this Torpor?

"I believe there is a laboratory in the east wing. If we proceed there, we should be able to locate a sample."

To no one's surprise, they had to fight their way through more awakening Orcs and devotees to get to the laboratory. Once they were no longer being attacked, Erandur said, "Now that they've been dealt with, we need to find the Torpor." When Yssha asked what it looked like, he told her, "It should be in a small bottle, very similar to any other potion. I'll begin searching up here."

Once again, the team spread out, Yssha marveling at the amount and variety of alchemical ingredients still in usable condition, and she helped herself to some of the ones she had trouble finding elsewhere.

This time it was Serana who made the find, and the team reassembled around Yssha and Erandur. The priest smiled at Serana. "I'm relieved you discovered a bottle intact; this place looks as though it was ransacked by the orcs." Then he turned to Yssha. So ... I've taken us this far, but you need to guide us the rest of the way. Drink. Dawnstar's fate rests in that tiny bottle. The longer we wait, the more damage Vaermina could be doing to those poor people. I understand your hesitation, but I promise you that it works."

Yssha opened the small bottle, but hesitated. "How will I know when to waken?"

"Your people and I will watch over you as you slumber to ensure your safety. If I deduce anything is amiss, I will use my arts to bring you back. Otherwise, I am uncertain what will end your Dreamstride. Perhaps when Vaermina's curious appetite has been filled." He hesitated, then went on. "I will not lie to you, there is some risk involved. The last time the Torpor was imbibed could have been decades ago. But I swear upon Lady Mara that I will do everything within my power to prevent any harm from befalling you."

Yssha nodded. then swallowed the potion. Her vision blurred, the lighting became ... peculiar, and she was sharing the memories of a Brother Casimir, conferring with two other priests.

One she recognized as a friend of her host spoke. "The orcs have breached the inner sanctum, Brother Veren."

"We must hold," Veren said. "We can't allow the Skull to fall into their hands."

"But ... no more than a handful of us remain, Brother."

Veren spoke firmly. "Then we have no choice. The Miasma must be released."

Thorek began to object "The Miasma? But, Brother ..."

"We have no alternative. It's the will of Vaermina. And what about you, Brother Casimir? Are you prepared to serve the will of Vaermina?"

Yssha's host spoke. "I've made my peace. I'm ready."

"Then it's decided," Veren said. "Brother Casimir, you must activate the barrier and release the Miasma. Let nothing stop you. Brother Thorek, we must remain here and guard this Skull with our lives if necessary."

"Agreed. To the death."

"Then let it be done. Farewell, my brothers!"

In Casimir's memories, Yssha made her way through the Temple's Inner Sanctum, finding that experiencing another's memories was strange. She experienced his emotions and sensations, but otherwise it was like she didn't exist. She couldn't touch anything he hadn't, couldn't move any direction he hadn't, so she made her way, feeling his fear and hesitation, to a pull-chain he knew would release the Miasma. Seizing his courage, he pulled the chain.

Then Yssha was back to herself, seeing a soul gem on a pedestal next to the chain. Hoping that was the barrier's power source, she removed it - and the barrier went down, allowing her to join Erandur and her team.

"Are you all right?" Marcurio asked, before anyone else could speak.

"I am fine, beloved. Brother Casimir was not harmed, so neither was I."

Erandur looked startled at that name, but said only, "It ... it worked. Mara be praised! You vanished after drinking the Torpor and materialized on the other side. I have never seen anything quite like it."

"It was ... strange," Yssha said. "Difficult to describe, though."

"How I envy you. I can only imagine the excitement of seeing history through the eyes of another! Sadly, I am resigned to just reading of its wonders through my research of the Skull."

"Shall we continue, then, now that we are able?"

"Yes - yes, of course," Erandur said, leading the way again.

More Orcs and devotees, until she saw the two who'd sent Casimir off, in the Dreamstride, and Erandur stopped. "Wait... Veren... Thorek... you're alive!"

"No thanks to you, Casimir," Veren said with scorn.

Well. That explained Erandur's reaction when she'd mentioned Brother Casimir, Yssha thought.

"I no longer use that name. I'm Erandur, Priest of Mara."

"You're a traitor. You left us to die and then ran before the Miasma took you."

"No," Erandur protested. "I ... I was scared. I wasn't ready to sleep."

Veren snarled. "Enough of your lies! I can't allow you to destroy the Skull, Priest of Mara." He cast a Lightning spell at them.

"Then you leave me no choice!" Erandur advanced, drawing his mace, with Yssha and the rest behind him.

When the two fell, Erandur looked regretful. "I ... knew Veren and Thorek. They were my friends. Is this punishment for my past? Is it Mara's will to torment me so?"

"They were trying to kill you, and us as well. You had no choice, and self-defense is no sin in any religion I have heard of."

He nodded with a sigh. "You're right of course, and it's time. The Skull must be destroyed. If you'll stand back, I'll perform the ritual granted to me by Lady Mara."

The team held back as he approached the Skull of Corruption, praying. "I call upon you, Lady Mara! The Skull hungers. It yearns for memories and leaves nightmares in its wake. Grant me the power to break through this barrier and to send the Skull to the depths of Oblivion!"

As he spoke, Yssha heard Vaermina within her mind. "He's deceiving you. When the ritual's complete, the Skull will be free and then Erandur will turn on you. Quickly! Kill him now. Kill him and claim the Skull for your own! Vaermina commands you!"

Yssha growled deep in her throat. "That will not happen, Ruler of Nightmares. Daedra and their damaging artifacts do not belong in Mundus." The voice continued trying to convince her, until the priest's prayers were granted and the Skull vanished.

Erandur returned to the team, looking haunted. "Forgive me if I don't appear relieved ... this temple has taken its toll on me."

He led them back to the anteroom, where he told Yssha, "My intention was to spend the rest of my years here, burying the past and praying for forgiveness. But instead, I wish to offer my services to you. If you ever wish to journey with me, I'll be here."

Yssha bowed politely. "You do me great honor, Brother Erandur, and you would be an asset to anyone you choose to travel with. But my team is also my family, and our dragon-brother can only carry four, so I hope you will not be offended that I choose to leave you to your repentance. Though I would ask that you allow my husband's Porter Service to clear the rest of the Temple and ... clean up this area for you."

Erandur managed a brief smile. "I'm not offended at all, Dragonborn. And yes, send the Porters here ... I'd like them to clean the place out, that I may re-sanctify it as Mara's Temple, with no traces of Vaermina remaining."

"It shall be done," Yssha promised.


	11. Family Reunions

Author's Note: Thanks to Cyclone Sword for the inspiration for this chapter - it's something I'd planned to do, but it completely slipped my mind.

* * *

Chapter 11 - Family Reunions

Yssha's next visit to Helgen was to see the plans for her palace-to-be, but as Odahviing circled before landing, she noticed a section of wall had been moved out more than fifty feet, and spliced back into the original. She wondered if that were an indicator, and groaned, glad it was hidden by the wind-roar.

When Odahviing landed in what looked like it might be intended as a plaza in front of the enlarged area, she dismounted and stared up at him. "Is this what it looks like?"

He didn't bother trying to pretend misunderstanding. "It is, thuri. We know you want something modest, but this is the very least we will accept for our jud. By dovah standards, it will be barely a hut - you should have something twice as impressive as the White Gold Tower, at least."

Yssha sighed as she heard footsteps approaching from the direction of the Keep. "Pruzah fahdoni, I know my vahrinne think highly of me, but while I am wealthy enough to rebuild a small town, I am not so much so as to include a palace the size of Dragonsreach! Nor is Skyhold large enough to justify such a structure, being the smallest hold in Skyrim."

"Smallest?" Dragon faces weren't very expressive, but Yssha could tell Odahviing was surprised. "Thuri, the joor accept you as Jarl of the Air, so only the land part of Skyhold is small. Yours is the largest realm on Nirn."

"I ... had not thought of it like that," Yssha said slowly. Perhaps because she hadn't wanted to, she thought. "But I still cannot afford something of that magnitude."

"We will have to work something out for you, then," Odahviing said decisively.

She turned, hiding another sigh, as someone behind her spoke. "Ysmir?"

It was the architect she'd hired. "What is it, Ragnar?"

"I finished the preliminary plans for the palace late yesterday. Would you come to my office and take a look at them?"

"Very well." She and the others followed him to his office in the Keep - it had been the torture room, when she and Hadvar had escaped - and bent over the plans. It wasn't as bad as she'd feared, from the cleared space she'd seen, because the area nearest the plaza was a pavilion large enough for three or four dragons, with a throne dais at the far end. "This is to be my throne room?"

"One of them," Ragnar said. "There will be another inside, but since some of your subjects won't fit, they asked for an outside one."

That made sense, so Yssha nodded. What she thought of as the palace proper was still larger than she cared for, but if this was the smallest her vahrinne would accept for their thur, she had little choice in the matter. well, she probably did, but they might think it an insult, and she wouldn't do that to them. "You heard what I told Odahviing?"

"Yes, but you won't have to rebuild the whole town, you know. We started getting settlers as soon as the wall was rebuilt, and they've started building homes and businesses. Marcus Jannus, for instance, is working on a general store, and Patsy is building an inn."

"That is good - I saw new buildings as we flew in, but I assumed you had built them for the construction workers."

Ragnar chuckled. "Most of those are living here in the Keep, helping out the settlers until you approve the palace design so we can start construction on that. Except for rebuilding the wall and clearing the rubble, plus repairing the minor damage to the Keep and setting up the hydroponics, people are paying for their own property."

"That is good to know." Yssha smiled. "In that case, you may begin the palace as soon as you like. But there is no rush to finish it, as I dislike cities, and will probably still live at Lakeview Manor and come here once or twice a week to hold audiences."

"That's disappointing, but understandable," Ragnar said. "Thanks for authorizing it, anyway."

"You are welcome. How soon should I check back with you?"

"There should be something worth seeing in about two weeks."

"In that case, we will return then. Send a courier if you need me for anything earlier."

* * *

When they returned to Lakeview and had lunch, Marcurio said, "We don't have anything urgent going on, so I think we ought to make those family visits we've been talking about."

"I suppose we should," Yssha agreed, though with a notable lack of enthusiasm. She loved her parents and siblings, and seeing them would be nice, but she dreaded their reaction to what she'd become here in Skyrim. "Mother's reaction will not improve with delay, so we might as well get it over with."

"I'm the same way with my father," Marcurio pointed out. "But both sets have a right to meet their new in-laws."

"They might surprise you," Serana said.

"That is always possible," Yssha conceded. "Whose first?"

"Yours," Marcurio said promptly, which made everyone chuckle. "Let's see if Odahviing thinks he can carry Freyr in addition to the rest of us."

When they asked, Odahviing nodded. "He is small, and can ride on the lap of one of you. He should be no problem. Where are we going?"

"A farm between Weynon Priory and Chorrol," Yssha replied.

"I know the area, perhaps even the farm. Mount, and we go."

Freyr grinned when Nevan handed him up to Marcurio. "Fly! Good!"

The rest mounted, and Odahviing took off, to be joined at cruising altitude by the now-usual escort. Yssha still thought it was a waste, but the dovahhe seemed to enjoy it, so she'd quit protesting. And it was a pleasant flight, with the squadron peeling off as usual just before Odahviing landed.

Yssha swallowed as she saw figures approaching, but she smiled as she slid off Odahviing's neck and identified them. "Mother, Dad! Are you well?"

"Well enough, darling," her father said. "Will you introduce us to your friends? Grams has kept us posted, but - "

"Of course." She took Freyr and handed him to her mother. "Family Marcurio's adopted son, Freyr. Now this is my husband, Marcurio, and our other senior generation, Nevan, Serana, and Odahviing. I introduce my parents, Nashi and S'Rasha."

Her mother looked at her curiously. "You have a dragon in your family, daughter?"

"Two, actually," Yssha said hesitantly. "Whether you believe it or not, I am a dragon, in all but body. I do not know what is known of me in Cyrodiil, however."

Her mother looked at her dubiously. "We know you're called Dragonborn, and that you killed the World-Eater, but Nord legends ... I don't know."

Odahviing snorted a quiet and very polite laugh. "Are you at all familiar with dovah powers, Lady Nashi?"

"Only that you can breathe fire," Nashi replied, turning to Yssha. "Can you really do that, darling?"

"It was one of the first things I learned." Yssha turned her head away, and Shouted as gently as she could. "Yol!"

Her parents backed away as flame spurted from her mouth.

"I ... I gave birth to a dragon?" Nashi looked appalled and more than a little frightened. "It's one thing hearing about that, and quite another seeing it."

"Khajiit in body, but dragon in soul and blood," Odahviing clarified. "It is unfortunate that she lacks wings of her own, but I provide those for her, as you saw. In defeating the World-Eater, she became our thur, our overlord - the most powerful dragon of us all. But she is still your mon, your daughter."

"Yes ... yes, she is." She was still a bit tentative, but Nashi approached again, and hugged her daughter. "Welcome home, Yssha."

Yssha licked her mother's cheek. "Thank you for using my name, Mums - I rarely hear it these days."

"Come inside," S'Rasha invited. "Those of you who'll fit, anyway." He turned to Odahviing. "We'll open a window so you can take part, but we'll be more comfortable sitting ... and I, for one, need some wine."

I'll stay outside an' play," Freyr announced.

"I think I do, too," Nashi said, shakily. "Our daughter, breathing fire ... "

Once they were inside and settled, S'Rasha said, "You rarely hear your name these days, you said. Why?"

Yssha grimaced. "Like Grams, I have too many titles, and also too many names. To the dragons, I am Dovahkiin or thur. To most Nords, I am Ysmir. My housecarls call me Thane. The Emperor calls me Stormcrown. And so on."

Nashi shook her head. "I know it's true, but seeing you in that splendid armor and hearing it from your own mouth is still a shock." She paused, shaking her head. "We've heard stories and songs about your exploits and your team's, but it's unsettling to a parent to have a child turned into a legend, a farmgirl become dragonslayer and nobility, and all the rest."

"Where are J'Sharr and Shana?" Yssha hadn't yet seen her younger brother and sister, which surprised her. They usually investigated anything new immediately, and they wouldn't avoid a dragon's arrival.

"We fostered them out late last year," S'Rasha told her. "J'Sharr's with the Knights, hoping to become one when he's old enough, and Shana's fostering and apprenticing with Claudius and Rena Valus."

"The priests? That surprises me - I had expected her to become a merchant, or perhaps a horse trainer."

"As soon as the Concordat was voided and Talos worship was legal again, yes. And she's training at the Fighters Guild in her spare time."

"They idolized you before, you know," Nashi added. "That has only grown since, especially after you and Marcurio saved the Emperor by destroying the Dark Brotherhood." She shuddered. "That must have been incredibly dangerous."

"Actually, it was one of the less dangerous things we've done," Yssha said. "Marcurio is surprisingly good at sneaking, almost as good as a Khajiit, even in the heavy armor he prefers. We were able to take the Dark Ones out singly, which put the odds strongly in our favor. Besides, while they were undoubtedly proficient assassins, they were pitiful fighters."

Both parents purred loudly, and S'Rasha actually laughed, human-style. "You needn't sound so disgusted at that, youngster. After all, they were fighting someone trained by Grams and her Knights - very few have that degree of training."

"True," Yssha acknowledged. "And they had only one mage, so were vulnerable to Marcurio's Destruction magic."

"Who or what do you think worthy of your skills, then?" her father asked.

"The dragons were at first, and Alduin, Harkon, and Miraak were certainly difficult, but as a class? I would say the Dragon Priests are worst." She chuckled. "Though my first encounter with a Giant sent me flying, and it took a number of healing potions and much Healing to recover. I was fortunate I was not killed, and it was some time before I went after another one."

"Which terrified me," Marcurio said. "I love her very much, and losing her might have destroyed me. Fortunately, that can't happen any more."

"We heard about her immortality," her mother said. "It's good to know we won't outlive our eldest daughter - we dreaded that - but to lose Aetherius?" She turned to Yssha. "Is it ... worth it?"

"Since the alternative was risking another Alduin as overlord of my vahrinne, my sworn ones, I had no real choice. But I do get to visit, if or when I am killed. I simply may not remain there."

"And she has access to all the realms there," Nevan added. "So even if you go to the Khajiit realm instead of Stormhaven or Sovngarde, she can visit."

Nashi smiled. "That's better. So, will you two be giving us grandchildren?"

"Other than Freyr?" Yssha grinned. "Give us until the war is over, Mums. I won't offer hostages to the Thalmor, but after that, most definitely."

"And so will we, if you count non-Khajiit as kin," Serana said.

"You're clan, so of course you're kin!" Nashi said. "Not Family, but a descendant Family, so still close." She smiled. "Khajiit relationships can be confusing to others, but Khajiit or not, as part of a descendant Family, you are part of ours as well."

* * *

A bit before midafternoon, Odahviing interrupted. "A reminder, thuri, if I may. Do you still wish to visit your ahmul's family as well?"

Yssha glanced at the shadows outside. "Yes - I had not realized it was getting this late." She turned to her parents. "We must leave, I am afraid. You have met Marcurio; now I must meet his parents."

"Of course," Nashi said. "I'm glad you came to us first - I just regret missing your wedding."

"So do I, but Brother Maramal was rather insistent on getting it done," Yssha said. "We went in one afternoon, and he set it for the following morning. I did not have time to do more than send you that note by courier, since my magica is limited and that was well before Odahviing swore to me."

"Oh, I understand, dear," Nashi said. "But the regret is still there." She smiled. "Go on, meet your in-laws. We can visit more later, since dragons are willing to provide transportation."

"Perhaps at my Lakeview Manor, so I can show it to you," Yssha said as everyone went outside. "The dovhhe all know where it is."

"We'll visit soon," S'Rasha promised.

* * *

They landed in the plaza in front of the Great Chapel of Julianos. Yssha hadn't been in a Cyrodiilic chapel since leaving for Skyrim, so she went inside to savor the stained glass windows and pay her respects at the central altar. She prayed briefly, and smiled when she turned away from the altar to see her team and the priest, Brother Tumindil, behind her. He was a kind man, and a skilled healer.

He returned her smile. "Blessings of the Nine to you ... Yssha, from the armor?"

"Yes, Brother," she replied.

"I wouldn't have expected such great things of you, daughter." He smiled. "The Divine Crusader has asked the Chapels to remember you in our prayers, which we are pleased to do."

"Thank you - that is reassuring." Yssha bowed to him, then she and the team left the chapel, to find the usual crowd around Odahviing. Yssha grinned, then they followed Marcurio to his family's home, which turned out to be a manor probably the size of her own Proudspire.

He'd been pretty sure the lock had been changed when he'd been disinherited, so he knocked.

Moments later, the door opened, and a servant bowed. "Master Marcurio! It's good to see you again, sir."

"Are my parents home, Sergius? I'd like to introduce them to my wife."

"Yes, sir - in the sitting room. I'll bring more Surilie Brothers."

"Thank you." Marcurio led the way to a richly-furnished sitting room, and found his father reading while his mother was writing something at her desk. "Mother, Father - I'd like you to meet my wife and most of our family."

The two rose, approaching the group. His father was reserved, but his mother welcomed them with a smile. "If Marcurio hasn't told you, I'm Alexia and my husband is Cassius." She embraced Yssha. "And you must be Marcurio's wife - the Divine Crusader said you looked just like her."

As Marcurio introduced the rest, Yssha studied Cassius, trying to come to grips with being related to someone who'd disinherited her beloved, even though he'd partially redeemed himself by reinstating his son. But then she softened toward him a bit when he went to one knee to hold out his arms to Freyr. "Come give your grampa a hug, boy."

Freyr glanced at Yssha for reassuance, then at her nod, did so. Cassius embraced the youngster and stood, still holding him, then turned to Marcurio. "I was wrong about you, son, and I apologize. Events prove you were following the will of the Divines, and I was too blind to realize it."

"Please, sit and have some wine," Alexia said. "My dear, that is very ususual armor all of you are wearing - what is it?"

"Mine's dragonbone," Marcurio replied. "The rest are wearing dragonscale, and most of our weapons are dragonbone. Yssha's and mine are from dragons we killed before Alduin, and Odahviing swearing fealty to Yssha."

"Dragon armor and weapons." Cassius shook his head. "As astonishing as everything else about you two. Now, you say this is most of your family - where's the rest? Skyrim?"

"In front of the Great Chapel," Marcurio said. "Odahviing - the fifth of the senior generation of Family Marcurio in Clan Ysshaya."

Alexia gulped the rest of her wine and poured more. "A _dragon_ is part of your family?"

"Two, actually," Yssha said. This was so much simpler in Skyrim! "My title of Dragonborn is ... literally true. I was born with the soul and blood of a dovah, I fear to my mother's dismay when I proved it to her a couple of hours ago. Would you like the same demonstration?"

"Yes, please," Cassius said. "I see a Khajiit in dragonscale armor, not a dragon."

"Very well." Controlling her Voice to a bare whisper, she Shouted. "Yol!"

The flame went barely a foot past her muzzle, and Freyr protested. "That weak, mama!"

"That _was_ weak," Yssha corrected, almost absently. "But yes, and deliberately so. You wouldn't want me to burn down gramma and grampa's house, would you?"

"Uh, no," Freyr said, sounding a bit ashamed. "Just like it when you shoot big fire."

"All right," Cassius admitted, then turned to his son. "You're a braver man than I am, Marcurio. Did you know she could do that when you married her?"

"Not that particular Shout, but yes, she knew part of Unrelenting Force and had used it. So I knew she was Dragonborn, and what that meant, at least in Nord terms." He grinned. "So when I married her, I knew she was both beautiful and dangerous. And I haven't regretted it even for a second."

Yssha's ear-tips burned, and Alexia laughed. "That's good, son."

The conversation continued for perhaps another hour, then Yssha rose. "We must return home, but I am pleased we were finally able to meet. Would you care to come with us and meet Odahviing?"

Both agreed, and they walked back to the Great Chapel's plaza. There was still a crowd, but the Julians were recognized, and way was made for them. When they got to Odahviing, Marcurio introduced his parents to the dovah, then they mounted, and Cassius handed Freyr up to his son. "Blessings of the Nine!" he called, as they took off.


	12. Recruiting for Helgen

Chapter 12 - Recruiting for Helgen

It was a beautiful morning when the team emerged from Lakeview the following day, much to Yssha's relief - ever since the blizzard, she feared finding another terrible storm when she went outside.

She smiled to see Ralof lounging against Ahkrinbo's side, his legs stretched out and crossed. "You seem to be comfortable, my friend."

He stretched and chuckled. "Very, Ysmir. And since you gave Camilla both Sven's and Faendal's letters, she's turned her attentions elsewhere. Now it seems to be between me and Hadvar, for both Camilla and our Skyguard healer Gerda."

Yssha chuckle-purred. "Do you have any preference?"

"Gerda, by a hair. They're both attractive, good cooks and housekeepers, and will be good mothers, but I'm a bit more likely to need healing than he is."

Yssha's chuckle became a laugh. "So pragmatic, for a young man?"

"Um. Well, this _is_ Skyrim; we don't have the luxury of pure romance, like Cyrodiil. You understand?"

"Of course. A favor, please?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"I would like to speak to a Khajiiti caravan leader, so if you happen to see any, please notify me."

"Of course. It looks like there may be a small one headed toward Helgen from Riverwood now, in fact. I guess they heard it was being rebuilt, and want to get their claws in early."

"That would save us from having to seek them out," Yssha said. "We will check on it when Odahviing arrives." He was normally waiting when she and the team came out, but she was early today; even her team was still finishing breakfast.

A few minutes later, Odahviing and her team arrived almost simultaneously, and she smiled, approaching them as Odahviing asked his usual, "Where to today, thuri?"

"Ralof says he believes a Khajiit caravan may be approaching Helgen from Riverwood. If so, I would like to speak to them."

"I thought I saw something of the sort as well," Odahviing confirmed. "I shall take you to them."

"In a moment, please." She turned to her team. "I do not know how much you know of Khajiit customs, love?

"Not much," Marcurio replied. "I've never had prolonged dealings with any but you."

"Then you should know Khajiit customs and proprieties can vary widely from clan to clan. What one may find unacceptable, another may consider praiseworthy - so if you find something offensive, please try to remain calm."

"Okay ... I suppose. As long as they don't try anything I think might harm you."

"Oh, nothing that drastic!" Yssha exclaimed. "None would harm a possible guest, or even less, a customer. But greetings and courtesies vary widely. If you are in doubt, take your cues from my reactions ... I have little experience with any but Clan Ysshaya myself, but I have been taught of others."

"All right." Marcurio grinned as the team mounted.

* * *

Odahviing landed a couple of hundred feet on the Helgen side of the Guardian Stones as the caravan approached them, and the team dismounted, walking toward the caravan. It halted, and its leader climbed down from the front cart as Yssha approached. "You are the Dragonborn, yes? This one is Ri'jarr, leader of this caravan, and he has heard that Helgen is being rebuilt."

Yssha bowed, switching to the less-familiar mode of Elsweyr speech patterns. "This one is Dovahkiin, yes, and she welcomes you to her Skyhold. May your trade there be profitable, though the town is still being rebuilt and its population is small. Will you introduce - "

She was interrupted by a roar, and Odahviing launched himself into the air while she drew Dragonbane and readied Dragonrend.

The cart horses bolted, unaware that they were running away from their defender, and Odadhviing rose, trying to stop them while Yssha and her team killed the rogue.

At five against one, the feldovah had no chance, but she winced as she absorbed the soul, still sensitive from her illness after defeating Miraak. When she recovered from that, she approached Ri'Jarr again. "This one apologizes. Such are rare now, but there are still a few. And I believe my vahriin Odahviing stopped your runaways." She looked toward the carts. "Not without some spillage, I fear."

"It is nothing to apologize for," Ri'Jarr assured her. "Such attacks are so rare now that wolves are a greater threat. Ri'Jarr's caravan is Yushi, Tsrava, S'Fara, and our best warrior, J'Gashta. We carry general goods, a few potions, and some metals."

"This one would be interested in the metals and any health potions," Yssha said. "At a fair price, of course."

Tsrava grinned. "Of course, Guildmaster. We would never cheat you, of all people."

Well, yes - the caravans knew of her position, since they were a sort of Guild auxiliary. Yssha looked at Ri'jarr. "If you are willing to extend that attitude to all of Skyhold, I would offer you the opportunity of property and residence in Helgen."

Ri'Jarr looked at her in surprise. "In Skyrim, where beastfolk are unwelcome?"

"In Skyhold, where the Jarl herself is doubly beastfolk? Yes. You are most welcome in Skyhold, and I hope at least some of you will take up residence."

J'Gashta smiled, then bowed to her. "This one is J'Gashta, Holy One. Should you desire bodily comfort, he would be honored to provide it."

Yssha smiled, "This one appreciates your offer, and were she not happily married, would certainly consider accepting your comfort."

"Ah. Understood, but this one regrets the Holy One's lack of need. Should that change, J'Gashta will remain ready to provide his services."

Yssha chuckled. "Should such a thing unfortunately befall, she will reconsider. In the meantime, though - "

She turned back to Ri'Jarr, but he had been surrounded by the rest of his caravan-mates, and they were talking quietly, but in excited tones. J'Gashta joined that conference, so Yssha turned to her team, to find Marcurio looking at her quizzically. "Holy One? And ... was he offering what it sounded like?"

Yssha shrugged. "The Holy One part I do not understand - it could be a personal quirk. And yes; in some clans, such an offer is a sign of great respect. Some others simply do not believe in exclusivity, and will make such a proposal to anyone they find attractive. Refusing is quite acceptable, but it should be done politely."

"Okay, so either way, it was a compliment." Marcurio grinned. "I can't fault his taste, and apparently not his manners, either."

When the caravan members' conference broke up, Ri'Jarr approached Yssha while J'Gashta and Yuki went to the carts and began calming the horses, then repacking what had fallen out when they bolted. "We have considered your offer, Dovahkiin, and we accept. We will settle in Helgen, gladly. Will Argonians be welcome as well?"

"Of course," Yssha said. "At the moment, its population is mostly Nord, but anyone who wants to settle there will be welcome, as long as they abide by our laws."

"We will continue our journey, then, and send a courier to a friend of ours. Wandering has its pleasures, but also its limitations."

"Such as not having kittens," S'fara said. "A limitation this one plans to remedy, with Ri'Jarr's assistance, as soon as the preventive potion wears off."

"Talk to Marcus Jannus, at the general store. He is acting mayor, and will be able to help you get settled. Everyone in town knows I intend Skyhold to include all races, so you should encounter no more problems than any other settler." Yssha smiled. "Now if this one may be excused, she should pay a courtesy call on Fort Neugrad's commander."

"May Alkosh continue to guide your steps," Ri'Jarr said with a bow, as the team mounted Odahviing.

* * *

They landed on the road in front of the fort, where the gate guard admitted them, saluting. "Welcome, Legate. How can the Legion serve you?"

"By introducing me to your commanding officer, if he or she is not too busy."

The guard grinned. "He won't be, since you outrank him." He called another soldier over. "Auxiliary, show the Legate here to Tribune Reman."

"Yes, sir," the young man replied. "If you'll come with me, Ma'am?"

Yssha and her team followed him into the fort's keep, past soldiers drilling, a forge, and a stable, then upstairs, where he showed them to an office and knocked on the door. "Enter," a bored-sounding voice called.

Yssha opened the door, followed into the office by her team. The man at the desk had looked up from some paperwork, and now stood, smiling. "Tribune Claudius Reman at your service, Legate. It's good to see you again."

He did look vaguely familiar, but Yssha couldn't quite place him. "We have met before, Tribune?"

He nodded. "At Fort Kastav, though it wasn't exactly a formal meeting. I'm one of the ones you and your husband rescued from the Stormcloaks. What can I do for you?"

"I am simply paying a courtesy call - something I should have done sooner - to welcome you to Skyhold."

The Tribune grinned. "Yes, we heard about that, and about you rebuilding Helgen. Both are welcome news. My men are especially appreciative of the town being rebuilt - neither Falkreath nor Riverwood are particularly appealing to them, and we're too far from anyplace else for a short leave. You won't mind having them in Helgen from time to time, I hope."

Yssha chuckled. "Not at all. I am sure Patsy at the inn and Marcus at the general store will be happy to see them. My Guard commander may be less enthusiastic if many of them are troublemakers, though." She paused. "You may remember him from Fort Kastav as well. Hadvar, the leader of the soldiers who met us in the courtyard."

"Hadvar? Yes, but I thought he'd transferred ... oh, of course your Hold Guards would be Skyguard. No, I only have a few who might give them problems, unless you count getting drunk and a bit disorderly."

"Drunk and disorderly?" Yssha chuckled again. "Those are normal for Nords, and soldiers of other races as well. I am sure he has facilities set up already."

"I'd be astonished if he didn't," Claudius agreed. "Oh, there might also be a bit of friendly inter-service rivalry, but most of mine have operated with Skyguard at least once, so it shouldn't get out of hand. Having dragons flying interdiction or close air support, or landing so they and their riders can join in a hard-fought ground battle, can make a Legionnaire damn tolerant of the 'flyboys'."

"And the Skyguard likes having the Legion alongside as well, for anything requiring sheer numbers, or going places dragons will not fit," Yssha said.

"I personally think, aside from combat itself, the Skyguard has become indispensable for communications." Claudius grimaced. "Divines, trying to run a battle, never mind a war, with runners and relay riders, was a nightmare. I sometimes think it's a wonder we ever won back Cyrodiil, or Tiber Septim managed to establish the Empire in the first place."

"He did have Numidium," Marcurio pointed out.

"And we have something greater," Claudius said. "We have Dovahkiin and the dragons who call her their queen. They have less individual power, perhaps, but thousands of them more than make up for that. I'm confident we'll not only win this war, but restore the Empire as Talos wishes."

His mention of winning the war made Yssha's stomach churn. Ever since Bormah had mentioned the soul-shock after Miraak's death being necessary to temper her, she had had a premonition that the end of the war would somehow - though she had no idea how, if it was even possible - be even worse for her than confronting all those dragon souls. From time to time she wondered if she should have chosen divinity rather than immortality, but reminding herself of some of her soul-guests' memories during Alduin's rule got her over that, usually pretty quickly.

"Are you all right, Legate?" Claudius' voice brought her back to reality.

She nodded. "Just briefly distracted, Tribune. Should any of your folk decide to retire to Skyhold, when that time comes, I will welcome them, though as small as our ground area is, His Majesty may have trouble finding enough farmsteads."

"Leave that until it happens," Claudius told her, and Marcurio nodded.

"I am thinking too far ahead again, then?" Yssha said with a chuckle. "Very well, I will stop it. And it looked like we interrupted you - I hope it was nothing urgent."

"No, or I'd have said something, even to a superior." Claudius grinned. "Just routine reports I was glad to take a break from." He gave the papers a dirty look, then said apologetically, "But I do need to get back to them, with the Legate's permission. They need to be dispatched to Solitude in the morning."

"We will depart, then." Yssha smiled and bowed, then led her team outside.

* * *

As the adults were relaxing after supper that evening, the usual discussion of what awaited them the next day got going. Serana looked thoughtful, then said, "Now that I'm human again, instead of one of the undead, maybe we should cleanse Meridia's temple. She did ask that when you found her beacon a couple of months ago."

"True," Yssha said. "And we have been putting it off because you would not have been welcome even at her shrine, much less in her temple. And she is the only Daedric Prince I would do a service for without reluctance, now that you are in no danger from her. So unless there are objections, yes, that will be tomorrow's mission."

* * *

Interlude - Personal

Marcurio snuggled up to his wife, breathing in the scent of her fur. "May I ask you something, dearling?"

Yssha shifted beside him. "Always, beloved."

He rose to an elbow, looking down as he caressed her. "Would you have let him, ah, 'comfort' you if we weren't married?"

Yssha stretched, and tickled his nose with her tail, making him sneeze. "No, beloved. We of Clan Ysshaya are ... considered somewhat prudish, given that Grams is the Divine Crusader, and holds us to far higher standards of behavior than most. To be honest, I should probably make the Great Pilgrimage throughout Cyrodiil, considering my thefts. But neither of my Patrons has said anything, so perhaps I am already forgiven my multitude of sins."

"And when I'm dead? Will you be free of that prudishness then?"

Yssha gave that serious thought before she replied. "I do not like to think of that, beloved, but you are right, I must." She sighed. "It is ... a difficult question. Skyrim custom, for some reason I do not understand, does not allow remarriage, even for young widows. And clan custom does not allow for such comforts outside of marriage. But ... "

"No buts, my love." He kissed her, very gently. "Tell me, what are dov marriage customs?"

Yssha frowned. She disliked consulting her inner dovahhe, but that question had gotten the attention of one she didn't recognize, a very amused female. _I am Lokmoroyol, thuri. Dov have no such thing as marriage. We mate at will, eagerly and often. I have flown the skydance with all the most powerful ones, including our former thur a few times, and many others. But I had the privilege of being allowed into season only twice. Very memorable, those were, and I had clutches by both of your current top lieutenants. Should you ever wish, I will happily share those memories with you._

 _Ah, not now_ , Yssha replied. _But ... season?_

 _Oh, yes._ Lokmoroyol's amusement grew. _Immortality means replacing only those permanently killed, so we do not grow too numerous. Those of us who wished to do so did not consider the occasional Dragonborn entirely a bad thing, as long as we did not encounter them ourselves. That was when Bormahu would allow those he deemed worthy to go into season. It is ... difficult to describe in words, but I will try. The ... urge to mate becomes very strong, and you know He has made you fertile. The males know as well, and compete for your attentions. When you choose one, that urge becomes irresistible, and subsides only when you have conceived. Kaazze lost that glory long ago, for which I pity you. But you are dovah as well, so perhaps some day Bormahu will grant it to you._

As Lokmoroyol returned to the back of her mind, Yssha studied her husband, trying to decide how much to tell him. "Dovah are ... um, they do not marry. They ... mate at will. According to the one who spoke to me, eagerly and often." She briefly described how they bred, when they were permitted to do so. "But I do not foresee that happening," she added. "I enjoy your attentions perfectly well as things are."

Marcurio kissed her, hard. "Good. Then while I live, we're together, as we vowed, but when I die, you're free."

"But I do not _want_ to be free of you!" Yssha half-wailed.

Marcurio stroked her forehead until she calmed, then snuggled closer. "You'll eventually have my kits, love, I promise, Akatosh willing - but when I'm gone, don't deny yourself intimacy. Promise me."

Yssha blinked back tears, but couldn't refuse. "I ... I promise."

Then what he'd said really registered. "Beloved ... vows last only during life. And I have already died. So ... you are free."

"You also came back, my immortal beloved, so I'm taking my own death as the termination point of our vows." Marcurio grinned down at her, doing his best to look stern. "I _am_ going to give you our kits, and hope to live long enough to see them married as well. Maybe even grandchildren, though adventuring with you makes that less than probable."

"Very well, beloved." Yssha snuggled as close as she could. "Now make us both happy."


	13. The Break of Dawn

Author's Note, re Dovahzuul: I am borrowing the Esperanto suffix -in to refer specifically to female dovah, where applicable. 'Dovah' will continue to refer to males, or those of either sex.

* * *

Chapter 13 - The Break of Dawn

There had been no objections, so the following morning, after making sure the beacon was in her pack, Yssha and the team left for Meridia's shrine. Since they'd be going indoors, Odahviing simply dropped them off and left while they began climbing steps to the shrine. When they got to the top, the same voice Yssha had heard when she first touched the beacon spoke again.

"Look at my temple, lying in ruins. So much for the constancy of mortals, their crafts and their hearts. If they love me not, how can my love reach them? Place the beacon in the receptacle before you."

Yssha took it out of her pack and obeyed, then - a beam of light took them high in the sky, to confront a blinding ball of light, which spoke to them.

"It is time for my splendor to return to Skyrim. But the token of my truth lies buried in the ruins of my once great temple, now tainted by a profane darkness skittering within. The Necromancer Malkoran defiles my shrine with vile corruptions, trapping lost souls left in the wake of the war to do his bidding. Worse still, he uses the power stored within my own token to fuel his foul deeds.

"I have called you here, Dovahkiin and your mortal friends, to be my champions. You will enter my temple, retrieve my artifact, and destroy the defiler. Guide my light through the temple to open the inner sanctum and destroy Malkoran."

"What sort of artifact are we looking for?" Yssha asked.

"Mortals call it Dawnbreaker, for it was forged in a holy light that breaks upon my foes, burning away corruption and false life. You will enter my shrine, destroy Malkoran, and retrieve this mighty blade."

The light's attention seemed to focus on Serana. "I detect traces of my foe Molag Bal on you, but very weak, and you are certainly mortal. Did you return to life voluntarily?"

"I did, Lady Meridia. For love of this out-plane warrior with us."

"Then I grant both of you my favor. Restoring the undead is better than simply killing them, and thwarting Molag Bal is even better."

Then her attention again spread to the rest, and they descended to the shrine. "Malkoran has forced the doors shut. But this is My temple, and it responds to My decree. I will send down a ray of light. Guide this light through My temple and its doors will open."

They descended the stairs and walked around the base until they found the temple's entrance. Yssha snarled under her breath at the thick black fog that seemed to ooze its way through the corridors, not quite concealing a burned and, according to Meridia, desecrated corpse. Marcurio's porters didn't mind normal dungeons and ruins, but he was pretty sure they'd balk at looting a Daedric temple, so they took any loot they found as they went along, and they searched carefully. They found Meridia's light shining through the ceiling onto a crystal on a pedestal in the first real room they came to, but they had to fight a couple of dark shades to get to it.

Once they reached it, Yssha wondered what to do, but just getting close appeared to be enough; the pedestal rose, sending another beam of light to something above a tunnel to the east. Following that took them to another pedestal chamber, where they encountered and had to battle more shades, groups of them. The shades were seemingly a cross between skeletons and ghosts, something she wasn't familiar with, but not much more difficult than a skeleton. Not much more profitable, either, but the desecrated corpses more than made up for that - especially since the team didn't have to fight those.

Once the shades were defeated, the team approached the second pedestal. This time the light opened a door above, but there didn't seem to be a way to follow it directly, so Yssha sighed and cast Pathfinder.

That took them down a corridor to the south, and eventually to a third pedestal on the floor above. Shades kept trying to stop them, but opposition was hardly unusual for a dungeon run, just different varieties depending on where they were. The door this pedestal opened led outside, to a balcony where three pillars were lit up. They paused long enough to raid a chest, then went up a set of stairs and back inside.

This chamber was huge, and had three levels. Aside from more shades, of course, the only thing on the ground floor was a door Yssha couldn't lockpick, so they went up a set of stairs, Pathfinder leading them through a set of passageways and to a lever that dropped a bridge. Crossing that took them to a pedestal ... almost, since there was a bridge stub. The bridge to the pedestal was gone.

Yssha used Whirlwind Sprint to get to the pedestal and activate it, then returned to her team. That pedestal had opened a door they hadn't been able to open before. Pathfinder led them around another set of tunnels to another pedestal room, then back to the original huge room to light the third pedestal. After that, it was back to the ground floor, where the door they'd found earlier was now unlocked. So they went down the stairs it revealed, into what were obviously catacombs. There was another pedestal there, and when Yssha activated it, a door opened.

Six of the shades attacked, backed by what had to be Malkoran shooting frost spells. Yssha used Marked for Death on him, then waded in with her mace while the rest tackled the shades. Malkoran wasn't overly difficult to kill, but she swore when a shade emerged from his body.

Right - she reminded herself that Meridia'd said he was a necromancer. Damn. She went back to work, relieved when Nevan joined her. Between the two of them, it didn't last long.

Meridia's distinctive voice spoke again. "It is done. The defiler is defeated. Let the one freed from Molag Bal take Dawnbreaker from its pedestal."

Serana looked dubiously at Yssha, who nodded, so she stepped up and took the sword.

The instant she did, all of them were again in bright light high above Meridia's shrine. "Malkoran is vanquished," the Daedric Prince said, with obvious satisfaction. "Skyrim's dead shall remain at rest. This is as it should be. This is because of you. A new day is dawning, and you who bear my sword shall be its herald. Take the mighty Dawnbreaker and with it purge corruption from the dark corners of the world. Wield it in my name, that my influence may grow."

Serana raised her new blade in salute. "I will be honored to do so, Lady Meridia."

"May the light of certitude guide your efforts."

With that, they were standing in front of Meridia's statue again, with Serana looking more than a little puzzled. "I wonder why she chose me? Yssha is the Dragonborn!"

"I think she made it adequately clear," Yssha said, purring. "Who better to serve her than one who willingly gave up undead immortality, and in doing so spurned her enemy? Her favor can be powerful, and Dawnbreaker certainly is. Bear it in good health, fahdoni."

"After being around you and the dov, it's pretty clear what Molag Bal gives vampires isn't true immortality, just a greatly extended life," Serana said quietly. "We - they, now - can be killed, and they don't come back like dov can. The body turns to dust, and the soul goes to Coldharbour." She shuddered. "I'm not sure the Colored Rooms would be much better, though, if Nevan goes elsewhere."

"You don't know the Aedra very well, do you?" Marcurio asked.

Serana shook her head. "My family worshipped Molag Bal even before I was born. I was taught about Daedra, not Aedra."

"Then let me reassure you. When you get married, Divine Mara links your souls. As I understand it, a married couple normally remains together, but no one knows the details. There's a lot of speculation, though."

"But you and Yssha ... "

"Will remain soul-linked, so I'll still be able to keep an eye on her." Marcurio grinned. "Maybe even more, if I'm fortunate enough to go to Stormhaven when the time comes. She'll be visiting there, on occasion."

Nevan grinned back. "Since that's where my thur will be going, at least occasionally, that's where I'm hoping for, too."

"Then add me to that number," Serana said. "I'm not leaving Nev, and if the rest of the family's there, too, so much the better."

"Speaking of family ... " Nevan hesitated, then went on. "You've seen your mother, but never told us what she thinks of you being human again."

"Because she didn't say anything about it." Serana heaved a deep sigh. "I hope she's thinking about doing the same, though. I'm sure my father is in Coldharbour, and I can't imagine she'd want to be stuck with him in death."

A dragon roar interrupted them, and they drew weapons and prepared spells, but then the roar became a Call. "Dovahkiin! Zu'u hind tinvaak!"

"Hi aal aav mii," [You may join us] Yssha Called back. The team relaxed slightly, but remained prepared for combat as an Ancient landed at the foot of the stairs.

The dovah studied them for long moment, then spoke. "Zu'u Viinyolbrii, Dovahkiin, thur of those you call feldovah. I wish you to stop killing my vahriinne."

Yssha studied him in turn. "You must know that I hunt only those who attack people or their property without provocation. Tell your vahriinne to stop doing that, and I will stop as well. It is not a thing I enjoy, particularly Shouting them out of the air with Dragonrend."

The dovah cocked his head. "You have used it often enough, so we know you do not fear it. So if I may ask, what is the reason for your dislike?"

Yssha nodded. "You may. I dislike it for a very simple reason. I am Dovah-kiin, and you, collectively as well as individually, are my fronne. I am not, by nature, a kin-killer, and torturing you with Dragonrend first does not appeal, either. I use it only because I must, to protect others."

"So we have heard, nikriin. [coward.] Which is why I have chosen to challenge you for thurship . Thu'um only, no claws, teeth, or weapons." He leaped into the air, gaining height rapidly. "Down me, Dovahkiin, if you can!"

Yssha used one of the more colorful swear-words she'd learned in the Legion, then took a deep breath and Shouted. "Joor Zah Frul!"

Dragonrend had its usual effect, and Viinyolbrii crashed to the ground about a hundred feet away. After a few seconds, he got to his feet, shaking his head, and Shouted fire at her. She cast a ward to stop it, then bathed him in her own stronger dragonfire. They traded Shouts back and forth for several minutes, with her using Dragonrend whenever he tried to take off.

She must have hit him with it a half dozen times before he staggered to feet and wing joints, his head drooping. "Zu'u gahvon. I yield - you need no weapons to defeat a dovah, thuri. My vahriinne are yours."

"You fought well, vahriini," Yssha told him. "Had you not specified no claws or teeth, you would have had to face Dragonbane, and you would have died." And she would have absorbed his soul, something which was now repugnant to her. "I may be immortal these days, but I am still not suicidal, nor am I immune to pain."

Several other dragons landed near them, including Odahviing, as Viinyolbrii responded, his tone astonished. "You are immortal? But you are kaaz!"

It was surprise, not disbelief, so Yssha took no offense at her new vahriin. "Yes, by Bormahu's decree, after I agreed to it to prevent another Alduin."

Viinyolbrii looked to Odahviing. "This is difficult to believe. A kaaz made immortal, and Dovahkiin ... either is difficult by itself, but both together?"

Odahviing gape-grinned, nodding. "And both true, zeymah. Briinahu has been killed, and has returned. Without one to call her back."

"Then doubly favored by Bormahu. And doubly worthy of our allegiance." His chin-spikes touched the ground as he lowered his head. "Command me, thuri."

Yssha doubted that he or any of his late-comers would be suitable for the Skyguard, and if they wished, they could always apply later. "Do as you will, vahriini, so long as you hold to my guidelines."

"Geh, thuri." Viinyolbri raised himself, becoming more confident. "Should Bormahu grant you the form of a dovahin, I would be honored to fly you."

Odahviing snorted a hearty laugh. "Any of us would. When Alduin was thur, only dovahin had the great privilege of flying our thur."

Viinyolbrii shared the laugh. "True. But now that we have a thurin, if Bormahu grants her that form, we males will be able to compete for that privilege."

"And it would be a mighty competition indeed, for her First." Viinyolbrii took off, accompanied by those who had followed him, and Yssha looked at Odahviing, confused.

"Fahdoni, what was that all about?"

"Dovah mating," he replied. "It need not concern you now. It is most unlikely to ever need to concern you."

Since she was Khajiit, that was true, but it had aroused her curiosity. She grinned at him. "You know kaaz curiosity is as bad as a dovah's. Will you at least outline it?"

Odahviing sighed. "Since my thur asks, I must." He sighed again, heavily. "Dovah do not normally have an emotional bond when mating; it is purely physical, unlike with most joorre."

"Yet Viinyolbrii mentioned the thur choosing, and a First," Yssha persisted.

"We can feel affection, though not love, and a thur may summon any he - or she - wishes for a mating and be accepted," Odahviing said, reluctantly. "Please, thuri, do not press me further. If you must know more, call on one of the dovahinne in your memories. I am dovah, not dovahin, and I truly do not understand their wants or needs. You are simply too different."

Yes, Yssha mused. She had heard something similar from joor men, on occasion, but not quite as strongly. "I did not wish to distress you, fahdoni; I apologize. Forget I asked."

His gratitude was obvious. "Thank you, thuri." He shook himself. "Where would you go now?"

"High Hrothgar, please. While things are relatively quiet, it would be a good opportunity to improve my Shout vocabulary." She paused, thinking. "But home first. The Greybeards tolerated Grams and Marcurio during my illness, but I will not abuse their hospitality further; I will go alone."


	14. Building Vocabulary

Chapter 14 - Vocabulary Building

Yssha's visit to High Hrothgar was pleasant, as all but one had been, and she enjoyed a meal with the monks. "I see you are getting fresh supplies," she said with a smile over a nice snowberry crostata dessert.

Arngeir returned the smile. "Yes, as often as we need them. I think one of your people must have told Klimmek, beause we no longer find his salted and dried gifts in the offering chest."

"I am glad," Yssha said. "The Seven Thousand Steps were becoming too much for him when I first came here."

"Yes," Arngeir said. "We observed him climbing the time before that, and knew he would be able to make only a few more trips. But tell us, what was that Shouting about? We heard it, of course, and your repeated use of Dragonrend."

She told them about the challenge and battle, then said, "I was delighted when he yielded, rather than forcing me to kill him. I wonder why? I have always had to kill, before."

Arngeir shrugged. "Paarthurnax might be able to tell you, but I cannot, and it may puzzle even him. But the reason for your visit, Dragonborn - you wish to locate a Shout?"

Yssha nodded. "Everything I could be doing is being done better by others, so I wish to build up my Shout inventory for when they must be used indoors. That is the only time it is specifically I who must use them, because my vahriinne are far too large for most enclosed areas."

"And outside?" Arngeir asked curiously.

"Outside, Odahviing usually sees any enemies first, and has defeated them before my team or I even notice them. Unless they are too numerous for him, which does occasionally happen."

Arngeir chuckled. "Yes, the dov have a raptor's keen eyesight. And yes, we have heard whispers of words. Let me see your map, and I will mark their locations."

"More than one? That seems odd."

"Yes, but we have three for you. It is almost as if they wish you to find them."

As the three Elder Scrolls apparently had. "Perhaps they do. Where are they?"

Arngeir pointed them out as he marked her map. "Shearpoint, Angarvunde, and Vahlok's Tomb, in Solstheim. But you'll wait for morning, won't you?"

"Yes - I like to spend my nights at home with my family, when possible. I hope it is early enough I can stop in Whiterun or Riverwood first, though; I promised Freyr a present. And Nevan says he is coordinated enough to begin learning sword-work, so I think a pair of wooden swords."

The Greybeards chuckled, and Arngeir smiled. "An apt gift for a Nord boy, Dovahkiin. He will enjoy both the gift and the lessons."

* * *

She had made it before the shops closed, just barely, and it was twilight before Odahviing delivered her to Lakeview Manor.

The family was waiting, along with Ralof and Ahkrinbo, and Freyr ran up, looking at the package she was carrying. "My present, Mama?"

Yssha smiled. "Yes, but I think it would mean more coming from Uncle Nevan." She handed it to the Sandeman warrior. "What you recommended," she said softly.

He grinned, then knelt to be more Freyr's height, and tore it open. "Look! Wooden swords! Would you like to start learning to use them?"

Freyr grabbed one and started swinging, causing Serana and Rayya to jump out of range, and Nevan laughed. "Not so impatient, Freyr! Good sword-work is controlled. I'll start teaching you in the morning, unless your Mama needs me."

Yssha smiled and shook her head. "I do not think so. If I recall my geography, Shearpoint is a dragon lair. After today's victory, I anticipate no problems. And beginning weapon lessons as early as possible is important. So remain here and begin teaching him, if you wish."

* * *

The next morning, Odahviing took Yssha, Marcurio, and Serana to Shearpoint, where the dragon perched on his Word Wall greeted her. "Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin thuri. Zu'u Faasfeimkod. Your visit honors me."

"Drem yol lok, Faasfeimkod vahriini. I would learn what your Wall has to teach, if you permit."

"You have my permission, of course, thuri. But I must warn you as well - Shearpoint is the resting place of Krosis, a Dragon Priest. He will wake when you get close enough to trigger the Words."

"Words?" Yssha was surprised. "I thought Walls had only single words!" She looked around, and saw a mound of snow that must conceal the Priest's sarcophagus. On the way in, she'd thought it just another drift or rock. "I thank you for the warning."

"A single word to a wall or location is the norm, yes," Faasfeimkod agreed. "But Shearpoint and Vahlok's Tomb, on Solstheim, are exceptions. Do you wish my help with Krosis?"

Yssha nodded. She hated fighting anyone who could teleport while fighting, especially outside, so she was happy to accept the offer. "We would appreciate it."

She drew her mace, the other two following suit with their own weapons, and she approached the Word Wall. When she reached the correct distance, sure enough, three of the words lit up and pushed into her, accompanied by the distinctive sound of a sarcophagus being opened from inside.

Odahviing and Faasfeimkod both took off, since her ride had waited, and began flaming the Dragon Priest. The ones on the ground didn't have a chance to participate, because with a pair of dragons attacking, Krosis only had time for a brief scream before it was cut off as he turned into a pile of ash.

The dragons landed again, and Yssha thanked Faasfeimkod before inspecting the remains and claiming Krosis' staff and mask.

Once she'd put them in her pack and turned toward Odahviing, Marcurio grinned. "What did you get this time, love?"

"All three words of Throw Voice, which seems like it might be very useful at times."

Serana nodded, "Especially as a distraction if we're trying to sneak, I should think."

"This didn't take long," Marcurio said. "Angarvunde next?"

"Yes," Yssha decided. "We have plenty of time, even if it proves to be a large area."

* * *

This one was an underground site, so Odahviing dropped them off and left to hunt, casually saying, "I believe I am in the mood for a troll snack. I wonder if the new ones on the Seven Thousand Steps are still denning there. Call when you wish me."

"I will," Yssha assured him.

Looking around the outside campground, they found the usual gear, plus a journal. Those usually had useful information, so Yssha opened it to the most recent entry.

"Whispers of this ancient temple have been few and far between, and most real knowledge seems similar to Angarvunde itself; buried and forgotten. Yet, every story or legend I hear all seem to speak of immeasurable riches found deep within.

"'Great treasure waits for the worthy adventurer,' said one old fool after many false flirtations and tankards of mead. Though he may have been a nuisance, his information matches most of my research, specifically the location of Angarvunde.

"Tomorrow I will hire a mining team to assist me in my excavation and head towards the ruin. By this time next month, I shall be rich!

"-M.D."

The three shared a laugh at that. "Not another one," Marcurio said with resignation. "The Word Walls are a great treasure, all right, but only for one person, and that writer's not it."

"We can try to convince this M.D., of course," Yssha said with a sigh. "But I doubt he or she will be receptive."

Marcurio snorted. "Of course not - once a treasure hunter gets the fever, logic and reason fly right out the window. Any bets this one wants you to do the work, then split fifty-fifty?"

"That would be a sucker bet, beloved," Yssha said, trying to look reproving. "And then run, trying to take it all. We have been through this before, starting at Bleak Falls Barrow."

Her husband chuckled. "I didn't think you'd fall for it, love. But shall we go see how closely this one sticks to our expectations?"

"Why not? We might be surprised."

They weren't. When they entered the cave and descended to a wooden platform, joining a woman already there, she turned to Yssha. "Dragonborn? What're you doing here?"

"I am trying to find a Rotmulaag - a dovah Word of Power - the Greybeards sensed is here. And you?"

"Medresi Dran. I was told of a great treasure here, but my miners - the cowards! - ran into a couple of draugr and got themselves killed. Tell you what, since you have your own reason to be here, take care of the draugr for me, and I'll give you half the treasure."

"The 'great treasure' is the Word Wall, but it is a treasure only to me," Yssha replied. "Even my companions will get nothing from it."

Medresi shook her head. "Okay, whatever. Just clear the draugr, and we'll go from there."

Yssha laughed - she was getting pretty good at the human version, she thought. "Very well, since I would have to do so anyway."

She and the two with her descended the wooden ramp, took care of three draugr, and started back toward Medresi. She met them partway, then ran down ahead of them to a barred gateway. "I don't have a key to this particular door, but this one - " she handed Yssha a key - "should open the ones to the sides, and let you in."

After that, it was a pretty typical barrow run. Niche-lined rooms, the occasional draugr - sometimes up to Overlord level. Skeletons, burial urns, traps. They did find a couple of skill books Yssha had already read, but the other two hadn't, so she shared them. Levers at the ends of the Catacombs and Ruins proved to be their intermediate goals.

Eventually, they walked toward their "partner", where the barred entrance was now open. As expected, she didn't wait for them but ran ahead - and triggered a rising-spike trap. By the time the three got to her, she was nothing but blood dripping onto the floor, but springing the trap had opened a pathway through it further in.

Serana grinned. "Treasure hunters! Let's go get you the real thing."

They found a chest with a few coins and a couple of amethysts, plus a broken sword - why would anyone save that, Yssha wondered - before continuing down some stairs, where she heard the chanting of a Word Wall.

"What's this one?" Marcurio asked.

"Tah, Pack," Yssha replied. "The last word of Animal Allegiance." She translated the Wall for them. "Here died the savage she-wolf Ulfeidr, slayer of men and beasts, savage leader of the Crimson Pack."

"Not the most useful one in your repertoire," Serana commented, "but it has come in handy a couple of times. Especially in Falmer nests with chaurus."

"Before I learned the Shout that restores them," Yssha agreed. Then she looked around, finding the usual chest at one end of the Wall. This one was worthwhile, again as usual with the Wall chests.

There was no shortcut out of Angarvunde, to her disappointment, but then, aside from the Catacombs and Ruins, which wouldn't be necessary again, it was a straightforward dungeon, and not long after emptying the last chest, they were outdoors again. Yssha called Odahviing, and they returned home.

* * *

When they landed, Nevan joined them, and Yssha asked about Freyr's training.

"He's no natural," Nevan said, "but for his age, he's doing pretty well. I gave him some exercises to build up his strength, and taught him some basic cuts. He'll be practicing those for a couple of days before he'll be ready for another lesson, so I'll be going along on whatever expedition you have planned for tomorrow."

Yssha thought about that briefly, then decided. "I have had no success in smithing the stalhrim I mined when we were at Gyldenul Barrow looking for Haknir's treasure. So I wish to go to Skaal Village and see if I can get some instruction from Baldor Iron-Shaper. I would say there is no need for the rest of you to go along, but Skyrim seems to specialize in making us eat such words."

Marcurio chuckled. "I can remember one easy one, when we retrieved Glover Mallory's bonemold recipe, but most of the time, yep."

"Oh! We had another easy one today, when Odahviing and Faasfeimkod saved me the trouble of killing a Dragon Priest!" Yssha grinned. "But we cannot count on such things happening."


	15. Lost Legacy

Author's Note: Corrected for an error reported by Pietersielie - thank you for the heads-up! Also corrected which word went with which translation.

* * *

Chapter 15 - Lost Legacy

When they landed at Skaal Village, Yssha went in search of Baldor Iron-Shaper, and almost immediately ran into her first snag when she heard two of the villagers talking.

"Deor, you must be calm," a woman she didn't recognize said. "I'm sure there's a good reason Baldor left us."

Deor shook his head. "Something isn't right, Fanari. I feel it in my bones and I smell it in the air. Baldor wouldn't leave without telling someone."

Fanari shrugged it off. "Don't worry yourself over nothing, Deor. Do you want a head full of gray hairs before you've seen forty winters?"

"It makes my heart heavy that you don't believe me, Fanari," Deor said sadly. "Baldor could be in danger, and you will do nothing. If you won't help me, then I'll ask the All-Maker to send someone else who can."

Yssha approached him. "Baldor is missing? I will find him."

"Skaal-friend!" Deor exclaimed. "It's good to see you again. Yes, and as our only smith, Baldor is very important to the village."

"Did anything strange happen the day he disappeared?"

Deor frowned. "Hm, I do not remember Baldor acting strangely. Although, now that you ask, I did see something in the woods on the day he disappeared. I saw two elves in the far distance, dragging something behind them. Hunters often visit our lands, so I thought little of it."

"Did you notice where they were going?"

He nodded. "South and west. If your road takes you that way, perhaps you could search for any sign of Baldor. The Skaal would be grateful."

"Since I came here specifically to speak to him, I certainly will," Yssha assured him. "But why would anyone kidnap Baldor?"

"Well, there is one reason that comes to mind. Baldor is the keeper of an ancient tradition, the forging of Stalhrim. It is an art we Skaal hold sacred. If someone wanted to make such weapons, they would have to get that knowledge from Baldor."

Which was precisely why Yssha wanted to talk to him. And if he was the only one who could teach her, his rescue became a matter of urgency. "We shall start at once, then." She cast Pathfinder, following it out of the village, southwest past the Temple of Miraak, and what felt like more than halfway across Solstheim. Eventually, they came to what looked like an abandoned hunting lodge.

To her surprise, it was being patrolled by four Thalmor soldiers. What in Oblivion were Thalmor doing here? But that surprise didn't keep her or her team from attacking and killing them, then searching the bodies. A key one of them carried opened the lodge, and she found she'd been right about it being abandoned. Aside from a few dusty pelts and empty wine bottles, the lodge itself was empty, but she could hear a voice yelling in the basement. "Help! Somebody! Please, someone, help me!"

She found the stairs, and they went down, hearing another call. "I have been taken against my will! I am in need of rescue!"

Yes, there he was, and Yssha swore, kneeling to unbind the blacksmith. The damn Talmor had been their usual selves, torturing the poor man. She took time to heal him, then helped him to his feet. "You are safe now, Baldor."

"Thank you, Skaal-friend. This is twice you have rescued me."

Yssha smiled. "Do you have any idea why the Thalmor kidnapped you?"

"I do not know this word Thalmor," Baldor replied, "but if you mean the elves, they were trying to learn the secrets of forging Stalhrim. Their leader, an elf named Ancarion, has a map. He says that it shows the location of a hidden source of Stalhrim."

"I have a few pieces of that, but just what _is_ stalhrim? It seems a very peculiar substance."

"Enchanted ice as hard as iron and cold as death. Stalhrim can be forged into deadly weapons, but the art is known only to smiths of the Skaal."

And he was the only Skaal smith, so that must mean it was a secret passed on from one smith to the next. "Do you know where I can find this Ancarion?"

"I overheard my guards saying that he has a ship docked at Northshore Landing, on the northwest coast. That was abandoned years ago, but apparently it's still usable."

"We will go there, then, while you return to the village to assure them of your safety."

When he agreed, all of them left the abandoned lodge, and Yssha called Odahviing. She explained where they needed to go, then said, "Please do not flame the ship until we have the map, then it is all yours."

"Of course, thuri. How about Frost Breath, though?"

"That should not harm the map, so it is fine." Yssha smiled at him. "Truly, I do not mean to keep you out of action."

"I know that, thuri. It is simply that I am too big to go many of the places you must. So I relish the times I may participate."

"Then certainly, freeze them before we land."

He gape-grinned. "Mount, and we go!"

* * *

Once they had the map, Yssha had Odahviing take them to Skaal Village, where she returned the map to Baldor and asked him about forging stalhrim. "With skill and patience," he told her. "It's very much like working ebony. Yes... I'd say if you know how to forge ebony, then you know everything you need to know in order to forge Stalhrim."

"Thank you. May I mine some at this new source?"

"I know you faced great danger to bring this map to me. There are no words to tell how glad my heart is. Thank you, brave one. Of course you may, and I have told you how to forge it. If you bring some here, I'll show you a few extra methods that benefit shalhrim but not ebony."

"I will, then, as soon as I obtain some. I have my Ancient Nordic pickaxe, so I am properly equipped."

* * *

When they got back from that, and Baldor had given her the promised lesson, she was approached by a man she hadn't met before. He introduced himself as Tharstan. "I heard from Deor how you went in search of Baldor. That was very brave, and in fact, that's just the kind of courage I'm looking for."

Yssha chuckled. "Let me guess, you need me to do something dangerous."

"Quite right! Quite right! This, however, is paying work. Allow me to explain. As a scholar of history, I've always found Solstheim to be most intriguing. I've made many forays into the ancient ruins that cover the island. I've come to know those ruins so well, I could draw you a map from memory. That's why I noticed the new passage the moment I laid eyes on it."

"A new passage to what?"

"An old tomb, I think. It must have been opened by an earthquake that accompanied one of the Red Mountain's eruptions. I'd love to have a closer look, but those old ruins can be dangerous and I'm no adventurer. I'll pay you to watch my back down there. I'll be heading back there soon. If you're interested, meet me at the ruins and we'll see what we can find. Now I'm off to pack for the expedition!"

Yssha chuckled again, as he ran off without waiting for an answer. "Scholars are as bad as treasure hunters, with their enthusiasms," she said. "Fortunately, since there is usually something to discover, they are rarely disappointed."

* * *

Odahviing got them to the right area, but they had to use Pathfinder to pick their way through the rubble of the earthquake to find Tharstan at the end of a tunnel, waiting near a set of doors. "Remarkable, isn't it?" he said. "This tomb has been hidden for... well, who knows how long. Many centuries, I would think." He indicated the doors. "There are some sealed doors up ahead. Perhaps you can figure out how to get them open."

That wasn't difficult, then he guided them down a stairway to a room with a grated firepit, some pillars, and several dead draugr. "I've had a look around and the only interesting thing I've found is this inscription here, and a switch below it." He showed her the switch and continued, "Now, I'm not sure if you can read the dragon language, but this seems to be a riddle of some sort. 'A sacrifice will bring you closer to that which you seek.' I wonder what it means."

Yssha didn't bother telling him that she was quite familiar with Dovahzul, written and spoken both. A sacrifice should be simple enough to provide, with all these draugr; she grabbed the feet of one and hauled it onto the grate, then used the switch, which opened the grate and sent the draugr into the fire, and doors to the north and south opened.

She flipped a mental coin and headed south. The group made its way along a twisting corridor and past an iron door, encountering draugr as they continued. They found another door, this one with a standard pull-chain to open it. Inside, she saw something they'd never encountered: a large central pillar in the middle, with three smaller ones around it. Facing each outer pillar was a flat-topped extension of the big one, one holding a sword, one a bow, and the third a staff.

"Hm... three pillars," Tharstan mused. "Other than that plaque, there doesn't seem to be anything else worthy of note. Let's see what the inscription says."

He walked over to it and read aloud. "'All men must die, often by their own means.' Sounds rather grim, if you ask me."

He wandered around the room, thinking aloud. "They also have glowing stones of some kind at the top. They look vaguely similar to drawings I've seen of objects called Impact Stones."

The team had never encountered this type of puzzle, but with that hint, it wasn't difficult. She attacked the sword pillar with her mace, the bow one with her crossbow, and used a Flame spell on the third. That opened a door to the north, and Yssha heard the chanting of a Word Wall, and wasn't surprised to be attacked by three powerful draugr before she could reach it. When they were down, she searched the strongest, and beside the usual loot, found something that surprised her - an amethyst claw, but only the left half of it. Then she approached the Word Wall and absorbed Mid, Loyal, then read the inscription to her team. "Here lies The Guardian, who won much glory. For his eternal loyalty, he joins the dead with great honor."

Tharstan looked at her in astonishment. "You read that better than I can!"

Nevan laughed. "She's Dragonborn, remember? The dragon language comes naturally to her."

Tharstan looked embarrassed. "I should have thought of that. I'm sorry if I seemed patronizing, Dragonborn."

"It is all right," Yssha reassured him. "Few people know more than a small number of words, and fewer are fluent, so assuming I know little is to be expected."

"That's generous of you - I won't forget again. Shall we go on?"

"Of course." An open-backed sarcophagus took them back to the firepit room, and this time they went north. The first room was another puzzle chamber, and Tharstan read the clue. "As I expected, there's another riddle in here, along with a puzzle. 'Continue along the path, don't tread where you've been..' Interesting..." He studied an odd stone path in the middle of the room. "Well, I'm pretty sure about two things. One, the riddle is most likely referring to these flat square stones. And two, I'm not going anywhere near them."

Yssha chuckled. He'd been honest about not being an adventurer, so she couldn't blame him for retreating. This puzzle seemed simple enough, just step once on each stone, so that was what she did, and a door opened ahead of them. More draugr blocked her way to a second Word Wall. When they were down, searching them yielded the usual loot, plus the right half of the amethyst claw. This wall gave her Shaan, Inspire, and she translated the Wall for the rest.

"Noble Nord, forever remember the mighty Guardian whose great courage inspired both men and dragons."

Again, an open-backed sarcophagus led them back to the firepit room. The amethyst claw halves fit into pillars on either side of the steps leading to the central caged platform, and Tharstan entered to read the plaque. "Here's another riddle. 'Stay your course. To idle is to die.' Well, at least it's straightforward. There appears to be a switch of some kind here. I'll just stand over here while you flip that switch. I'm sure everything will be fine."

Yssha did so, and blue glowing platforms began to appear and disappear over a deep-looking watery area. She warned the rest to stay back. "I have the advantage of a tail for balance, and Khajiit agility, both of which may be needed. I am betting that when I make it across, the platforms will become a bridge usable by anyone. If I am mistaken, I will just have to continue alone."

With that, she began making her way along platforms that formed ahead of her and vanished once she went to the next. She was right about needing her tail and agility, because they didn't form in a straight line, though when she reached the far side, the bridge that formed was straight, and the rest were able to follow easily. A handle made the beginning of a new bridge appear. This one moved a bit faster, and she was glad of the practice she'd gotten on the first one. There were more, each faster than the last, until she had to use Slow Time on what she sincerely hoped was the final one. That took her to a ledge with wooden double doors - and no switch.

She breathed prayers of thanks to Bormah and Talos, then opened the doors. They gave onto a Hall of Stories with a puzzle door at the end, and she dug out the claw halves she'd retrieved, putting them together and looking at the palm for the door solution. To her dismay, it was blank.

The rest arrived, and she explained the problem. Tharstan frowned, then said, "The etchings here are damaged, but perhaps there's enough undamaged text in them to tell us the combination." He began examining the walls carefully.

Several minutes later, he spoke again. "Ah, yes, here's something. The first one has to do with a breeze, or maybe it's wind. The second one mentions the the night sky, and the moons. And the third has something to do with fire. It also seems to mention scales."

Matching words to the door's images led Yssha to try the Eagle-Wolf-Dragon combination, then try the key-claw. With a groan of stone against stone, the door began sinking, and she warned Tharstan to stay back. "What is behind a door like this is the most dangerous enemy in any Nordic ruin, and given the imagination this one has displayed, I would wager anything I own that it is a Dragon Priest."

Behind the door was a long stairway leading to another door, with a pull chain. She made sure Tharstan had taken her advice, and opened the door. Dragon Priest, all right, she thought. Pond in the middle, walkway around it - this one with fire-trap nozzles visible - and a Word Wall with sarcophagus straight ahead. She glanced at her team, and saw all three preparing Frost spells. She drew her mace, readying herself to Shout Frost Breath.

The sarcophagus lid burst off, and the Dragon Priest appeared, throwing powerful fire-based spells and Shouting Fire Breath. And teleporting, to her severe annoyance. But they eventually wore him down, and he died for the second time encased in ice, with Serana's favorite ice spikes riddling his body.

Tharstan rejoined them as she approached the Word Wall and learned Vur, Valor. "This stone commemorates the valor of The Guardian, noble servant of dragons, whose fate was to vanquish traitorous Miraak."

"How amazing! A real Dragon Priest!" Tharstan seemed to be elated. "In all my years as a historian, I never thought I'd see anything like that. I suppose that was Vahlok. He must have had this entire place built for him so that he could maintain his vigil, even beyond death."

"Considering its defenses, I would tend to agree," Yssha said. "It had the most imaginative, and in those bridges, positively unique, features that I have seen." She hesitated. "I am reluctant to grant a Dragon Priest any praise, but since it seems clear it was Vahlok who made Miraak retreat into Apocrypha, I must. Miraak was extremely powerful. May Vahlok's soul find peace."

"May it indeed," Tharstan said softly, then his voice became brisk. "I promised to pay for your assistance. I hope this will be sufficient." He handed her a heavy coin-purse. "A thousand septims."

"Quite sufficient," Yssha said.

Unfortunately for them, Vahlok's stronghold lacked the usual Nord back door, so they had to retrace the entire Tomb, but at least the bridges remained in place, so it wasn't as bad as it might have been. Once outside, Tharstan returned to Skaal Village, and Yssha called Odahviing to return to Lakeview Manor.


	16. Miscellany

Chapter 16 - Miscellany

Odahviing dropped his riders off at the Arena in Imperial City, to attend the Imperial Wedding. That and the accompanying festivities would take them most of the day, so he flew to Helgen, landed in what would be the Palace courtyard when it was finished, and asked to speak to Yssha's architect.

The man emerged from the Keep, carrying rolls of plans. "What is it, my Lord?"

That wasn't an official title, but some few joorre had begun using it for both him and Marcurio. His thur's mate didn't particularly like it, and kept asking that it not be used, but the title tickled Odahviing, so he allowed it happily.

"You have begun the throne rooms. When will you be ready for the thrones?"

"As soon as they're ready, my Lord, especially if they will be large. It'll be easier to build around them than to move them in once construction is more advanced."

"Excellent. The one in the pavilion will be fairly large, yes, to suit Dovahjud's status. The indoor one may be somewhat smaller, since it looks like the room will be. so I will speak to the one I wish to make them."

He launched himself again, heading for Whiterun. Thur Yssha was far too modest, and would undoubtedly be happy with a simple wooden chair, not even gilded, but something she had told him of her experiences during her soul-shock had stuck with him, and he needed to speak with one of her joor friends about it.

When he landed outside the city gates, the guards greeted him. "How may we help you, Odahviing?" one asked.

"I would like to speak with the Adrianne Avenicci," he replied. "On business," he added, when the other looked a bit alarmed. Why, he didn't know; he hadn't eaten anyone since swearing to his thur.

"I'll tell her," the first said, descending from the wall.

Moments later, the gates opened, and Adrianne emerged. "Good day, Odahviing. What can I do for you?"

"Accompany me outside the city for a private conference, related to something for Dovahkiin. Unless you fear flying?"

"I've never done it, but the idea's no problem. Just let me change into something more suitable, and let Ulfberth know I'm going to be gone for a bit."

"Bring some paper and charcoal as well."

"All right." Not too much later, Adrianne was back, wearing leather pants instead of a skirt, and carrying a pack. She mounted when Odahviing crouched, gasping and clutching scales when he took off, and obviously relieved when he landed near Yssha's statue at the Western Watchtower.

She slid off his neck and turned to look at him. "That was ... interesting. Now, the guard mentioned it was business, and you mentioned it's for Ysmir. What are we talking about?"

"Thrones. She is to have one outdoors, in a pavilion large enough for multiple dragons, and one indoors, for inclement weather. You and Dovahkiin herself are the only ones who smith dragonbone, and she would not make such a thing for herself. If you are willing, I will see you are well paid."

"For Ysmir? Certainly. What kind of design are you thinking of?"

"You will have to draw it as I describe it." Odahviing gape-grinned. "I lack the necessary dexterity, you see."

Adrianne chuckled. "I'll give it a try, but I'm not an artist."

"My concept is not difficult, but it may need to be modified from what I see in my mind. Your drawing need be only approximate, for that."

"Let's give it a try, then." Adrianne walked over to one of the ramps nearby and rolled out the paper, securing the corners with pieces of rock. Readying her charcoal, she nodded. "Let's start with the core, the throne itself. Dragonbone, and sized ... um. Not for a typical Nord, not with her being an immortal Khajiit. Okay, on the small side, then."

She sketched out a wide dais, with a smaller dais above that holding the chair, and a stick figure with tail and pricked ears sitting on it. The chair's back was a bit above stick-Yssha's head, and Odahviing nodded. "Now a dragon's skull above her head."

"Protective, or just guarding?" Adrianne asked. "I mean, jaws open as if to shout, or closed, watching?"

That was something Odahviing hadn't thought of, and he gave it careful consideration. "I wish I knew more of Mirmulnir, but from what my thur told me, make it protective."

She did so, and he nodded again. "This is good. Add wings, curving from near the skull to just below the arms of the throne."

When that was done, he studied the drawing carefully. "I like it, but how does it seem to a human?"

Adrianne cocked her head. "It seems ... almost disrespectful to the dragons, especially now that you're our friends and protectors instead of predators. I mean ... it's a bit hard to describe, but remains should be properly interred, not used as trophies."

"But Numinex's skull adorns the wall above King Balgruuf's throne, from what I understand."

"And that's not right either," Adrianne said. "You want to display an enemy's armor or weapons as trophies, that's fine, but even an enemy gets Arkay's rites and proper burial or cremation." She scowled. "I don't care that it was King Olaf who put it there, or how long it's been there. It's still an offense to Arkay."

And it took a blacksmith to point that out, Odahviing mused. "Very well, I will tell thuri Dovahkiin. I doubt she ever considered it, given how busy she has been kept since her arrival. But I am able to reassure you, in this case. Mirmulnir is dovah, and has already told her that he considers such use of his bones a great honor."

Adrianne frowned. "You don't worship the Nine?"

Odahviing snorted a laugh. "Dovahkiin worships them all. The rest of us honor only Bormahu Akatosh. At any rate, how much bone will you need for two such thrones, one without the skull?"

"That depends on what bones I use." Adrianne pointed to a small hill a bit west of the Watchtower. "Mirmulnir was buried there."

"Wait here, and I will dig him up. Then choose what you wish, and I will re-bury him according to your custom."

Once both were done, Odahviing returned Adrianne and the bones to Whiterun, with instructions to have the thrones delivered to Helgen as soon as they were done, and let him know the price, then he returned to Lakeview Manor to wait for his thur's call.

* * *

Yssha was doing her best to conceal her boredom, sitting in the Temple of the Divines during the Emperor's wedding ceremony. Compared to the Skyrim version, it was interminable, with priests of each of the Nine delivering homilies, blessing the bride and groom, anointing the new Empress' crown ... why had she come? Well, it would have been an insult not to, so she hid a sigh.

And was relieved to feel a familiar mental touch. _Moni, I am going to grant one of your vahrinne something she very much wishes, but I need a decision from you first._

 _What is it, Bormah?_ A decision from her, before Bormah would act?

 _Geh. Alduin wished dov breeding restricted to Akavir. But he is no longer thur, so it is your wishes which rule now. Shall I continue restricting it to Akavir, or will you permit your vahrinne to breed elsewhere?_

That had been Alduin's desire, not Bormah's? That was good to know. _I judge my vahrinne quite capable of deciding for themselves, Bormah. As far as I am concerned, they may breed where they wish. May I ask who has won your favor?_

 _Fusmulgar, for her aid to Farengar in helping the races' understanding of each other. So I will permit her to go into season, and she may choose where she will clutch and nest._

 _I thank you for her sake and her mate's, Bormah._ Now if this long, long ceremony would ever _end_ , she would be immensely grateful!

Finally, it did, and she rose, stretching.

"Problems, youngster?" Grams asked, grinning.

"Just stiff from sitting too long," Yssha replied."My back feels like it is tied in knots."

Marcurio smiled gently. "I'll give you a nice massage when we get back home, love. Soon, I hope."

"I wish," Yssha replied, with some dislike. "We still have the reception to go through, and that is likely to be at least as long as the wedding ceremony."

"Very probably," Grams agreed. "But at least Imperial weddings don't happen often, and Crown Prince Gaius is already married, so that's one you won't have to attend."

"True. Well, I suppose I should circulate until I can properly leave."

* * *

When they landed at Lakeview shortly before dark, Odahviing asked Yssha to wait while the rest went inside. "What is it, fahdoni?" she asked.

"I have heard that Numinex's skull adorns the wall above the throne in Dragonsreach. Is that so?"

"There is a skull there, and I suppose it is Numinex's, since he was imprisoned there."

"Would you know why it was not buried, as was done with other dovah who were killed by joorre?"

Yssha frowned. "No," she said slowly. "I do not. The skeleton in Miraak's temple, I can undestand in a way, but ... we go to Dragonsreach first thing tomorrow, so I may ask King Balgruuf."

* * *

She bowed when Irileth escorted her to the King. "One of my vahriinne raised a concern last night, Highness, and it concerns the skull above you."

Balgruuf looked puzzled. "What is it, Ysmir?"

"Two questions. Is that truly Numinex's skull? And if so, why was it not buried with the rest of his body?"

Balgruuf's reply was cautious. "Tradition says so, yes. And I don't know, but I would guess King Olaf kept it as a reminder of his victory. Why? And why now?"

"Because I had more urgent things taking priority over a single dovah skull," Yssha replied. "And Numinex was Alduin's vahriin, not mine. But since he was a dovah, and I am Dovahjud, I am now the one responsible for seeing that his skull is properly interred. With the rest of his body, if that location is still known after so many centuries." She paused briefly. "And on a more personal note, I am also responsible as his kin, and the only one who can see his remains being used as a trophy, something I must take exception to."

"You ask much, Ysmir," Balgruuf said, with a scowl. "It's been there since the dragon's death - it's part of Dragonsreach, now. Still ... " He beckoned his brother. "Hrongar, go to the Hall of the Dead and ask Andurs to come here."

When Hrongar left, Balgruuf turned back to Yssha. "I'll follow Andurs' advice, as representative of Arkay. But the room will seem lacking without it."

"I know a smith in Raven Rock who is very skilled with a material called bonemold. If Andurs agrees with me, I will commission a replica of the skull from him."

There was silence then, until the priest entered and joined them. When the situation was explained, he looked thoughtful. "I ... see the problem." He turned to Balgruuf. "Dragons are not mere animals, to be made into trophies like a troll or sabrecat. Nor was Numinex a criminal, to have his head displayed as an example to others - nor would dragons ever see it, inside a building. So I must agree with the Dragonborn; the skull should be interred, as is done with any other honorable enemy."

"So be it, then," Balgruuf responded. "Thank you, Brother Andurs. Commend his soul to Akatosh, if you would."

"Of course, Highness."

Andurs took his leave, and Balgruuf turned to Yssha. "I have no idea where the rest is buried, I'm afraid. So wherever you think is proper for the skull, I suppose. And I'll take you up on that replica."

Yssha smiled. "I thank you for your understanding. Could you send the skull to Helgen? I will have a proper dragon mound - though a very small one - constructed just outside the walls."

"I'll send a cart with it later today," Balgruuf promised.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to Cyclone Sword for reminding me of Numinex's skull in the Dragonsreach throne room, and suggesting Yssha do something about it. I'd seen it there so often it had become just part of the scenery.


	17. Outpost South

Author's Note: SirElfendrago - Good ideas, and I thank you for them. It'll be several chapters before they get implemented (I generally stay 8-10 ahead of what's posted), but once the character I intend to deal with the Solstheim bones is introduced and is able to hire or otherwise convince workers to help her remove the Miraak's Temple skeleton from a place they're none too fond of, she will see to it.

* * *

Chapter 17 - Southern Outpost

Odahviing was talking to Ragnar the architect, telling him about the thrones being built, when a commotion at the western gate caught his attention. He turned, to see what looked like a band of mercenaries, with two of their number on improvised litters, and the gate guard pointing in the direction of the Hall of the Dead.

Four of the group carried the stretchers that way, and the other three walked up to him. One he assumed was the leader spoke. "You're Odahviing, right? I'm Tornalf of Falkreath, Captain of Tornalf's Terrors. Two of my men were just killed by Thalmor hiding out in that abandoned tower south 'a here."

"One moment - Dovahkiin will wish to know about this." He looked toward the Helgen Inn, where she was arranging for Patsy to do some taxidermy for her trophy room at Lakeview Manor. Pitching his voice so she'd be able to hear it inside, he called her. "Dovahkiin - Thalmor sighting."

Yssha finished counting the gold she was giving Patsy as a deposit, and hurried outside. By the time she reached Odahviing, the rest of her team was on the way as well, so she waited until they arrived to turn to the mercenary leader. "You saw Thalmor? Are you certain?"

He introduced himself, then nodded. "We've fought 'em afore, Ysmir. Yeah, I'm certain. Robes an' all. We was checkin' out that old abandoned tower a few miles south. Found out real fast it wasn't abandoned at all. Lost Nils an' Frejn." He paused. "I wanted that tower, but too many of the damned Thalmor. You mind a merc group builds a compound nearby? We need winter quarters, an' my men're well behaved around friends. Check our rep; it's a good one."

Yssha thought briefly, then smiled. "If that is so, you will be welcomed. A good mercenary company is a benefit to any town."

Tornalf grinned. "You got a general merchant an' an inn, we're happy. Buy what we need for a camp, then have a party. Welcome to join us."

"Perhaps later. Pick yourselves a good defensible campsite, and if you can pay, our builders will be happy to help build your winter quarters."

"Yah, prob'ly will. We had a good summer, wanted an easy camp for winter. But a permanent one'd be good, too. We'll look around."

"And I will let the Legion at Fort Neugard know about the Thalmor group; they will undoubtedly wish to help the Skyguard clear them out."

* * *

The assault group consisted of Yssha, her team, and four heavy-infantry troopers from Fort Neugrad. Yssha was a little dubious about the troopers, never having worked with any of them before, but the tower was in the fort's area of operations, so they had the right to participate.

Scouting both from the air and on the ground, there was nothing to show the tower was currently occupied. How the Thalmor managed that, when Tornalf reported at least eight and probably more - they hadn't made it past the first room - Yssha wasn't sure. A tunnel exiting through a natural cave, perhaps, similar to the one at the Embassy near Solitude she had escaped through.

The Fort Neugrad group didn't include any mages, so Yssha's team went in first, using spells, and the battle was on. Yssa, Marcurio, and Serana headed downstairs, trying to prevent any escapes in case of a tunnel in the basement. They were fast enough that a soldier was still opening a concealed exit. Serana nailed him with an ice spike, then the three eliminated the half-dozen others in what was all too clearly a torture room. Fortunately, despite a number of bloodstains, there were no victims, living or dead, and they went up to the main floor.

In the meantime, with Nevan as mage, the other five had gone upstairs. Nevan had contented himself with the mage, letting the Legionnaires handle the Thalmor soldiers, returning to the main floor as well when they were done. "Upstairs is clear," he reported.

"Downstairs as well," Yssha replied. "This place is too small to be any more than a watchtower, even though it appears the Thalmor were using it as a prison. One dragon and team, perhaps, with a Legion presence as well. I will ask the Skyguard commanders to speak to Legate Reman."

* * *

When the group left the tower, with Marcurio planning to send a Porter Service group in for the heavier loot and body clean-up, a courier ran up to Yssha, and she shook her head. How did they always know where to find someone who moved around as fast and often as she did? None had yet found her inside a dungeon or up at a dragon's lair, but just about anyplace else ... "Yes?" she said.

"I've been looking for you. Got something I'm supposed to deliver - your hands only. Let's see here..."

He fumbled through his belt-pouch, then handed her a pamphlet. "There's a new museum opening up in Dawnstar. The owner is asking me to hand out invitations to travelers. Gotta go!"

Yssha shook her head in bemusement as the courier left, followed by the soldiers. Then she opened the pamphlet.

"Silus Vesuius Presents

"The Museum of the Mythic Dawn

"A History of the Cult that Toppled the Septim Dynasty

"Inside of his very own home in the great capital of the Pale, Dawnstar

"Free and open to all citizens of Skyrim."

"The Mythic Dawn?" Serana asked.

"Yes - they murdered Emperor Uriel Septim VII and his family, and made attempts on his illegitimate son and heir, Martin. Grams wiped them out in 3E 433. She may be willing to tell you the full story some day." Yssha frowned. "I do not like this. It may be a simple museum, as the pamphlet claims, but I think we should investigate immediately, because if it is an attempt to revive the group, it could be extremely dangerous."

Marcurio nodded. "I agree. They summoned Mehrunes Dagon once; this Silus Vesuius may be trying to do it again."

"Mehrunes Dagon ... " Nevan said slowly. "That's the Daedric Prince of Destruction, right?"

"Right," Yssha said. "And last time he appeared, at the end of the Oblivion Crisis, it took Martin, acting as an avatar of Akatosh Himself, to banish him. The battle wrecked the Temple of the One, and left a life-size stone dragon in the ruins. It has never been rebuilt."

"I see what you mean."

Yssha called Odahviing, explained what was going on, and asked for transport to Dawnstar. "Mehrunes Dagon now?" he said dubiously. "I am glad you are immortal, thuri. Dagon may be barred from Mundus, but he can still send powerful Dremora through the barrier for long enough to be dangerous."

"I know," Yssha replied. "But I must investigate, at least, and perhaps take other action."

"Of course. Let us go."

* * *

When they neared a house with Mythic Dawn banners on both sides of the porch steps, a man in a Mythic Dawn robe was arguing with a woman in mage robes.

"Your ancestors wouldn't want this, Silus!" the woman said.

"Why should I hide from it?" Silus demanded. "This is my family's legacy!"

"It's the past! Dead oaths on dead lips. Let it stay there."

"The museum is opening, Madena."

With that, she sighed and left, pausing long enough to tell Yssha, "That museum is a mistake. I beg you, don't go in there."

Yssha didn't want to, but said only, "I must investigate."

"I suppose so, Dragonborn. But be careful."

"I shall." Then she approached Silus.

He smiled and greeted her. "And here comes my first visitor. The Museum of the Mythic Dawn is open, friend."

"The Museum of the Mythic Dawn?" Yssha kept her tone one of curiosity.

"Yes, my collection of artifacts from a group that toppled an Empire. Why don't you come in? You can browse the displays, and we can talk. I have a job you look perfect for."

She and the team followed him inside, where he went on, "Feel free to look around. Come talk to me when you're ready to discuss that job I mentioned."

They did so, looking at the meager exhibits while he rambled on about them and his family's connection to the Mythic Dawn. He had banners that decorated Mythic Dawn hideouts while they plotted, all four volumes of the Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, and what looked like the torn and scorched frontispiece of what he said was the Mysterium Xarxes itself. Then there were robes worn during their worship, dyed with what he said was sacrificial blood - still red, so it must have been enchanted.

Finally, she decided to see what he had in mind, and went over to him. He smiled at her. "Do you have any questions about the Museum, or would you rather talk business?"

"I am curious about the job you wish me to do."

"A little history first." He went through essentially what she'd learned from Grams, though with a very different viewpoint. One of his ancestors, he proudly informed her, had wielded the dagger that killed Emperor Uriel Septim VII, thus helping bring on the Oblivion Crisis. Yssha managed to keep her expression impassive, hoping he didn't know enough Khajiit body language to interpret what little she couldn't control.

What seemed to bother him was the groups that had formed to wipe out the Mythic Dawn, especially one that split Mehrunes' Razor into three parts, and handed them down through the generations. He wanted her to recover those pieces, then handed her a book. "Here are my notes on those families."

"Can you tell me more of this Razor?" she asked.

He looked happy to oblige. "The Razor is Mehrunes Dagon's personal artifact. It has always heralded bloody change and carnage. It has many names: Dagger of the Final Wounds, Bane of the Righteous, the Kingslayer. The Mythic Dawn worshipped Dagon as a god. Having his Razor would be invaluable to my collection. I will pay you well for the fragments."

"I will retrieve them," Yssha said, turning to leave.

"Good luck finding the fragments," he called as they walked out of the house.

Nevan started to say something, but when she shook her head, he remained silent. They left the narrow streets of the town, going uphill until they were in an area large enough for Odahviing. She called him, and they returned home.

* * *

Once Freyr was in bed, the rest gathered around the dining table. Then Yssha turned to Nevan. "What were you going to say?"

"I was going to ask you why you're going after that artifact. It sounds worse than most."

"It is," Yssha replied, "which is precisely the reason I am going after it. While I do not wish to think Silus is intending to rebuild the Mythic Dawn, I must admit I find his enthusiasm for it and the treason it committed is disturbing. Also his focus on Mehrunes Dagon and the Razor. Notice I said I would retrieve the fragments, but did not say it was for him. I plan to find a way to remove the Razor from Nirn, if not all of Mundus, after I discover what he intends for it."

"What puzzles me," Marcurio put in, "is that he didn't seem to recognize you. Why in Oblivion would he think the Dragonborn, of all people, would be perfect to retrieve a Daedric artifact, other than Meridia's or maybe Azura's?"

"I do not know," Yssha admitted. "It is a stretch, but perhaps he took us for an ordinary Skyguard team? We do have a few Khajiit now, and in full armor, my coloring barely shows. You are Imperial, and Serana is Nord. We are in officer's surcoats, so he might not think the dragon armor all that unusual."

"That's all speculation," Serana said. "But it sounds reasonable, I suppose. Anyway, what are our targets to retrieve the fragments?"

"Let me look." Yssha went to her pack and dug out the volume Silus had given her, _The Keepers of the Razor_ , and skimmed through it. "Much of this is history or lineages, but it seems we will be looking for Jorgen Axe-Bearer of Morthal for the hilt, Ghunzul, leader of the Cracked Tusk Bandits, for the blade shards, and Drascua, leader of the Forstworn at Dead Crone Rock, for the pommel." She paused. "I think I have heard that last name before. I believe she is a hagraven."

"Oh, fun," Serana said with a touch of sarcasm. "I just love hagravens and Orcs. At least Jorgen Axe-Bearer sounds like a Nord."

Yssha chuckle-purred. "At least we have their locations, and while both fights may be difficult, they should not be overly so."

"Agreed, love," Marcurio said with a grin. "Divines know we've fought enough of both before! So we start out right after breakfast, I'm guessing, with the toughest - hagravens or Orcs?"

"Hmm. Hagravens are usually comparatively few, but normally have a number of Forsworn as protectors. I would say them first, then the Cracked Tusk bandits, and Jorgen last, since if we must fight him, he is likely to be by far the easiest, and we may be able to avoid a fight at all."

X

Author's Note: Most of Silus's dialog is skimmed over or paraphrased, since I couldn't find it anywhere, and I don't know shorthand, so transcribing is tedious and time-consuming. If any factual inaccuracies crept in, I apologize.


	18. Retrieving the Razor Fragments

Chapter 18 - Retrieving the Razor Fragments

Odahviing landed them as close to Dead Crone Rock as he could, after warning them it was home to a lot of Forsworn, possibly including a Briarheart, but that he wouldn't be much help, since they generally stayed under shelter unless intruders appeared.

He was right. The landing area was empty until the team dismounted and Odahviing took off, then they were rushed by half a dozen Forsworn. When the team defeated those, another dozen appeared, including the Briarheart.

"Try the flame atronach!" Nevan called, wading happily in with his sword.

He and Marcurio were pretty sure her magica reserves were up to that, with the practice she'd had in the Illusion, Restoration, and Alteration schools. Yssha herself was less sure, but she cast the spell anyway, and was astonished at the results. She'd gone up against flame atronachs - stronger ones as well - but hadn't really paid close attention to the damage they did, since she was usually concentrating on attacking the caster and healing her own injuries.

This time she watched the atronach dance like the flame it was made of, turning four of the attackers into torches that burned to ash before it vanished. Even better, it targeted only enemies, as Marcurio had promised, so she was in no danger of harming her team! And it felt like she had enough reserves to conjure another one, but she decided to wait until they actually got into Dead Crone Rock, just in case.

So she switched to her mace and waded in, using Unrelenting Force whenever she had a clear shot, going straight for the Briarheart. Once he was out of the fight, the rest of a Forsworn group were usually easier to defeat.

These were no exception, retreating once their leader was dead. She claimed the heart for herself. While they weren't particularly useful for the kind of potions she usually made, they were rare enough not to pass one up when the opportunity arose.

As they climbed the stairs Pathfinder said would take them to Dead Crone Rock, Marcurio joined her. "Nice atronach, love. Did it give you any problems?"

"Not at all," Yssha replied. "I had not realized how effective one could be ... perhaps I should learn more conjuring. Though I am fairly sure I will continue to favor melee over spells."

Nevan chuckled. "Which is what makes you a spellsword instead of a mage - weapons are primary for both of us."

At the top of the stairs, they found a door into the Nord ruin. Inside, they followed Pathfinder up a series of tiers, fighting Forsworn and mages along the way, until they came to a metal gate with no lever or pull chain nearby. That usually meant it was in another room, so they began searching.

They found a room with an alchemy lab embedded in a banquet table, which struck Yssha as not terribly intelligent, but then she wasn't a witch or hagraven; maybe they liked that sort of risk. The room also held one of the soul-gem-powered fire-traps, which she disabled. That room led to a short dark corridor, and finally to a small room that held what she hoped was the right lever. They backtracked to find they were right, then kept going up until they reached the pinnacle of the Rock. As soon as they emerged, a hagraven carrying a black pommel-stone - Drascua, then - charged them.

Yssha grinned and cast her flame atronach spell again. Drascua was a bit more resistant, which gave her a chance to get a couple of mace blows in before the hagraven fell. She claimed the pommel stone, then approached the Word Wall she'd spotted as soon as they emerged into the open. Approaching it, she absorbed Faas, Fear, the first word she'd found of the Dismay Shout. Once they'd found what loot the area contained, she called Odahviing.

* * *

Cracked Tusk Keep was more straightforward. In the main door, take care of a couple of orc bandits, then upstairs to find the leader, Ghunzul - the chiefs were almost always on the top floor or in the basement, but she found most were upstairs. She'd guessed right this time, too. Ghunzul put up a decent fight, but the four of them easily overwhelmed him. He didn't have the blade shards on him, just a vault key and the usual loot. Well, vaults were almost always in a basement or sub-basement, so they headed back downstairs. To her surprise, the vault door was wood, rather than iron. That surprised her even more as they found plenty of good loot behind several inner, easily-opened doors. The final door had two levers, not just one, but as soon as the door opened, she saw the blade shards on a dark pedestal.

She chuckled as she saw the tell-tale openings of a dart trap, which would probably be triggered when she took the shards, but she hadn't worried about darts since she'd gone from leather to elven armor, and they were pointless against anyone in glass, dwarven, or better. She grabbed the shards, ignoring the patter of darts against her dragonscale, and rejoined her team for the trip to Morthal and their final objective.

* * *

She remembered Jorgen from her first time in Morthal. He ran the town's lumber mill, and she'd combined killing time until it was dark and she could search for Helgi's ghost with earning money by chopping firewood and selling it to him. She remembered those times with a certain degree of nostalgia. Earning "honest pay for honest work" had been tedious at times, and not all that profitable, but things had been a lot less complicated then, too. She greeted him with a smile. "Blessings of the Nine, Jorgen. How are things with you? You seem a bit upset."

"And to you, Ysmir." He shrugged. "The same as usual - this is Morthal, after all." He scowled. "The world's going mad, and our Jarl does what? She hides inside with her 'visions'. We need a leader, not some mystic!"

"You do not trust Jarl Idgrod?

"How can I? She never speaks with us. She's allowed this wizard, Falion, to live in our midst practicing gods-know-what. And she was no help against the rebellion or dragons. No, we in Morthal can only rely on ourselves." He grimaced, then shrugged. "So anyway, enough of my troubles. What can I do for you, Ysmir?"

"I understand you have the hilt of Mehrunes' Razor. I am collecting the pieces in hopes of removing that evil dagger from Mundus permanently."

His look was a combination of disbelief and relief. "If that can be done, you'd be the one to do it, all right. Here's the keys. It's locked in a chest inside my house."

Yssha accepted them, and bowed. "Thank you. I will leave the keys on the table."

* * *

Now that they had all the pieces, their next stop was Dawnstar. Silus was delighted to see them, and even more delighted when she handed him the fragments. "All at once! You're efficient. I like that. Here's your reward." He handed her a bulging coinpurse. "Now that all the pieces of Mehrunes' Razor are in my hands, it's time I let you in on something. There's a fourth piece, that scabbard in the display case. Built to hold the Razor. And there's more. I know how to put the pieces together. We just need to take them to Dagon's Shrine and contact the Lord of Change directly."

Yssha and her team had discussed this probability, so they followed her lead when she said, "That sounds to me like an extremely bad idea."

When her team quietly agreed, Silas grimaced. "You don't want to be a part of history? Fine. I'll be at the Shrine if you change your minds." He took the fragments and scabbard and left, slamming the door behind him.

Nevan slipped out quietly after a few seconds, returning minutes later. "He's gone. Let's do it." He, Serana, and Yssha gathered all the Mythic Dawn paraphernalia and put it into a warded pack while Marcurio put locking wards around all but the front door. Once they were outside, he sealed that as well, and the group went uphill to the White Hall. Yssha gave Jarl Brina Merilis a nod, and she gestured them into her strategy room, closing the door behind them.

"So you were right when we spoke earlier," Brina said, "and he's going to try to restore the Razor."

"Yes. We have the Mythic Dawn gear, and will secure it, but we must go to the Shrine and find out what happens next. His house has been warded against entry, but should he surprise us and return unharmed, Marcurio can remove the wards."

"Very well, but the museum will not be re-established, at least not in the Pale," the Jarl said firmly. "Skald permitted it because he hated the Empire, but I will not permit a memorial to the group that caused the Oblivion Crisis, now that I have the ability, and a reason, to forbid it."

Yssha smiled. "We definitely agree on that, Legate."

The Jarl returned the smile. "Indeed we do, Legate. Go ahead and do whatever you find necessary."

* * *

Odahviing landed them at the base of the stairs, then watched them climb toward the Shrine. "Bormahu protect you all," he said softly as they turned the corner out of his sight.

Silus looked a bit surprised, but smiled when he saw them approaching. "Good, you're here. I'll put the pieces on the altar, and Dagon should speak to us." He did as he'd said, then knelt facing the shrine and raised his arms to pray.

That was ... disturbing, even though Yssha had known he was going to try. Anyone praying to a Daedric Prince who had invaded Nirn more than once during the eras, culminating in the Oblivion Crisis, she could only regard as an enemy. But Silas had made no overt moves as yet, aside from gathering relics and now this prayer, so she was reluctant to act just yet.

His prayer began. "Mehrunes Dagon, Lord of Change! We have brought your Razor to you. We beg you, please bring the Razor in its full glory to Tamriel again."

His entreaties were useless, so at last he gave up, stood, and turned to Yssha. "It's not working. Why don't you give it a try?"

Yssha was extremely reluctant, but she felt a sense of reassurance she recognized, and placed her hands on the altar. When she did, she heard a voice that raised her hackles.

"You, Mortal. You are worthy of speaking to. You have claimed the pieces of my Razor. It has been an amusing game to witness. But Dagon does not declare a winner while there is a pawn on the board. He and his family have served their purpose. Kill him."

 _Agree, politely_ , a familiar voice told her. _If Silus lives, he will be as great a traitor as his ancestor._

 _As you will, zeymah._ "I will do as you wish, Lord Dagon." Yssha drew her mace and approached Silus.

"Fine," he spat. "But I'm not dying without a fight!" He sent lightning her way, and she countered by conjuring a flame atronach. Silus Vesuius vanished into a pile of ash.

"I am pleased, Mortal." Dagon's voice sounded smug. "I will give you my Razor. Use it to wreak havoc on Tamriel. Place your hands on my altar one last time, and you will witness the power of Mehrunes Dagon for yourself."

Yssha did as she was directed, and the fragments joined as she watched, becoming a unique ebony blade which slid into its scabbard and hovered in front of her. She took it, none too happy about touching such a thing, and Dagon spoke again. "Before you go, Mortal, one final challenge." That was followed by a purple shimmer, which released two Dremora who instantly went on the attack.

They might have taken her if she'd been alone, but it became clear they hadn't been anticipating four mages in dragon armor, because they went down almost immediately, looking surprised and almost insulted.

When that happened, Talos appeared. "A good job, briinah. I know it's unpleasant for you to handle the Princes' artifacts, except for Dawnbreaker - " he turned to Serana with a smile and slight bow - "and perhaps Azura's Star. But do you have plans for any others you may encounter, like this Razor?"

Yssha didn't even try to hide a shudder. "All I know is that they do not belong on Nirn, and should be secured someplace their owners cannot retrieve them. I would regret returning the Skeleton Key to Nocturnal, except for you saying I should."

Talos smiled. "While she's the patron of thieves in particular, and her spirit Nightingales guide them, all luck comes from the Ebonmere, not just theirs. So yes, the Skeleton Key did have to be returned. As for the rest, if you don't want to use them yourself, I can take them to Aetherius and secure them there. That is one place no Daedroth could go, even if it wanted to."

"Please!" Yssha handed him the scabbarded Razor. "This one must not remain here! And most others should go as well, if I encounter them." She took a deep breath. "But I do not intend to go looking for them, unless you or Bormahu will it."

He shook his head, smiling gently. "No, briinah, we would not ask you to deal with those Princes remaining, though it would give you a purpose for now." He smiled gently. "You feel like you are in limbo for now, which is true, because your skills are not suited to true warfare, as you found out during the Stormcloak rebellion. That will change later, but in the meantime, you are at loose ends."

"And I do not like it," Yssha said flatly. "So perhaps I will change my mind. Recovering and sequestering those artifacts is something I and my team are qualified for, and it would be a worthwhile thing to do."

"Yes, it would, and if you should run into any moral problems getting one, I'll help you.

"So be it, then."


	19. The Wolf Queen

Chapter 19 - The Wolf Queen

Yssha had decided it might be a good idea to clear up some of the tasks they'd taken on but hadn't gotten to yet, and investigating Wolfskull Cave for Falk Firebeard was at the top of the list. They could hope it was as simple as the wild animal or animals Falk predicted, but none of them were really optimistic that it would be that easy.

Their pessimism was borne out as soon as they arrived, since there were two skeletons guarding the entrance to the cave. A couple of quick bursts of fire magic took care of them, and the team entered the cave. "Probably necromancers," Marcurio said.

"Looks like it," Serana agreed, and sighed. "Well, let's get it over with. Whatever they're wanting to raise, it won't be good for Tamriel."

Yssha nodded and led the way into the cave, preparing for a fight - or more likely, several. It wasn't long before they were attacked by a couple of necromancers, and she sent flames at the oil they'd used to set up a fire trap. The necromancers died screaming, and the team continued. More necromancers, a few conjurers, more skeletons - and a couple of draugr Deathlords, as they got deeper into the cave.

Pathfinder led them to a door, then to a deeper cavern, lit with beams of light focused on an upper tower, and they heard voices.

A woman's voice told them the bad news. "Wolf Queen. Hear our call and awaken. We summon Potema!"

That was followed by a chorus. "We summon Potema!"

Yssha cursed, with Marcurio not far behind. "We must put a stop to this," she said. "Now!"

As they descended to the paved bottom of this chamber, the woman leading the ritual spoke again. "Long have you slept the dreamless sleep of death, Potema. No longer. Hear us, Wolf Queen! We Summon You!"

And the chorus again: "We summon Potema!"

The team found stairs leading up and began climbing, fighting more necromancers and drauger, including another Deathlord.

As it went down, another woman's voice spoke, this one sounding rather hollow. "Summoned with words. Bound by blood. Yes! Yes! Return me to this realm!"

The team continued climbing and fighting, listening to the ritual leader again. "As our voices summon you the blood of the innocent binds you, Wolf Queen!"

The chorus was different this time. "Summoned with words. Bound by blood."

Potema didn't like that. "What! What are you doing? You fools! You cannot bind me to your wills!"

"Summoned with words. Bound by blood," the chorus insisted.

Potema sounded like she was sneering. "You ants don't have the power to bind me!"

Finally they neared the top, and the ritual leader must have noticed them. "Something is wrong. There is an intruder."

More necromancers to get past, then they were at the top, and found the ritual leader trying to continue her ceremony. A crossbow bolt from Yssha, fire and ice spells from the rest, and it was over.

With the ritual leader dead, everything went quiet, and the team was free to look around. A lever lowered a drawbridge, which was a relief since it meant they didn't have to backtrack the whole way, and when they crossed it, they found a chest they emptied, adding its contents to the smaller loot they were already carrying.

They made their way out of the cave, then headed back to the Blue Palace, finding Falk at his usual post in the Throne Room. When Yssha approached, he smiled. "You've returned. Good. What did you find at Wolfskull Cave?"

"Varnius was correct; it certainly was not simple wild animals," Yssha told him. "Some necromancers were attempting a ritual to summon and bind Potema."

Falk was clearly shocked at that. "Potema herself? Please tell me you stopped them!"

Yssha nodded. "We stopped their ritual. It is done." Well, she hoped so, at least.

Falk looked relieved. "You've done a greater service to the realm than you could possibly know. A resurrected Potema ... I shudder at the thought." He handed her a heavy coin purse, smiling. "But if you will excuse me, it's almost time for afternoon audiences, and I have duties."

"Of course."

* * *

As they walked out of Solitude to a place where she could call Odahviing, Yssha considered her fences. Gulum-Ei, being easy to find and indoors, was her favorite, but as Guildmaster, she felt an obligation to spread her legitimate merchandise around, so she wouldn't use him today. But the team's last two expeditions were starting to burden them a bit, so she really ought to sell some things.

Enthir shared Gulum-Ei's advantages, but his prices were the worst, so she seldom sold him things, restricting herself to purchases of rarities like Daedra hearts and black soul gems. Tonilia ... well, only if she had to go to the Flagon for some other reason, thanks to the sewer stench. The three with the caravans she sold to when she encountered them, but they didn't expect her to chase them down. Endon was fine if he was in the Silver Blood Inn when she got there, but otherwise, he could be hard to find. Which left Mallus and Niranye. She'd dealt with Mallus more recently than with Niranye, so when Odahviing arrived, she asked to go to Windhelm.

On the way to Niranye's stall, she stopped to chat with Silda the Unseen - as a beggar, sort of a Guild auxiliary - and handed her a purse of coins. "Have yourself a couple of good meals, Silda, and get a room for the night. It looked like a storm was brewing when we flew in."

Silda accepted with a smile. "Divines bless your kind heart, Dragonborn! Want some lessons today?"

"Some time I am here at night, but not during the day." Yssha grinned. "You understand."

The Pickpocket trainer returned it. "Yeah. Some night, then."

Her next stop was the smithy, where she bought smithing supplies from Oengul War-Anvil and got the usual glares from Hermir Strong-Heart, who still hadn't adjusted to Ulfric's death, then she continued to Niranye.

The arms seller greeted her with a smile. "What do you have for me today, Ysmir?"

"Nothing special." Which meant nothing stolen ... "Just the usual pickings from a bandit den and a group of necromancers."

"You're in luck - business is picking up, so I can give you better prices than usual. Let me see them."

Yssha laid everything out on Niranye's display table, and the fence made admiring noises about some of the gemstones. "Looks like you've had pretty good business yourself!"

"Good enough that Helgen is growing rapidly, and I am thinking of indulging myself with a home dedicated to my crafting activities." Yssha grinned. "Rayya does not complain, but I get the impression she does not precisely approve of the noises of my smithing, or the smells of my alchemy. And I myself am not sure it is wise to expose a young child to those fumes."

"It's best not to, if you have that option," Niranye agreed. "Any idea where you'd put it?"

"I am thinking of developing the plot of land I was given when I was made Thane of Hjaalmarch," Yssha said. "It is not as attractive a spot as Lakeview Manor's, but some of the views are spectacular, and it is close to Solitude."

"Well, keep me in mind if you want to sell any dragon armor or weapons - with Adrianne in Whiterun the only source at the moment, and a huge demand, it's a seller's market."

"I will keep that in mind. Dragonscale is not a problem, since I have a good steady supply from the Skyguards' combat training, but the bone armor and the weapons will remain quite scarce, since almost all have sworn to me, and I will not raid my kin's graves for commercial purposes."

"Of course not!" Niranye looked horrified at that thought, and promptly changed the subject. "Ah, are you still doing favors for individuals?"

"As my responsibilities permit, yes. What do you need?"

"Not me." Niranye shook her head. "One of the other merchants." She pointed to the apothecary shop. "Old Nurelion at the White Phial's been looking for the item his shop's named for for years, but he's too old and sick now to do any more looking. He's gotten crotchety over the years, but he still has his little charities, like cut-rate or even free potions for people who're really sick or hurt and can't afford regular prices." She chuckled. "He grumbles and grouses about it, but I'm not sure he really means it."

Yssha smiled. "I will go talk to him, then. Thank you for the information."

Their business over, Yssha went into the White Phial, to see a heated discussion taking place. An elderly Altmer she assumed was Nurelion was insistent. "I'll be fine."

A younger Imperial man - his apprentice? - said, "Master, you're far too old for this sort of journey. We don't know what's inside ... "

"I'll ... I can ... just ..." Nurelion began coughing, unable to continue.

"You see, you're not well! Have a seat and I'll fetch you some tonic."

"Bah. If there was a tonic that could help me, I would have found it by now..."

Yssha approached the alchemist, who greeted her with, "I'm so close to the answer ... "

"What were you arguing about?"

"Just a man's life work, is all. I've finally derived the location of the White Phial, but this doting busybody won't let me get it."

Yssha smiled. "If you wish, I am certain my friends and I could get it for you."

"You would do that? It's good to know there are some people out there who are willing to help an old man. It's buried with its maker, Curalmil, in a long forsaken cave to the west of here. Curalmil was a crafty one, even in death. You would need the skills of a master alchemist to reach his resting place. Luckily for you, I've already made the mixture. Here, take it. Please... don't dally. I've wasted enough time arguing with my useless assistant here."

"Before we go, what is the White Phial? If you will excuse my curiosity."

"A legendary bottle, forged in the days when Skyrim was just starting its turn to ice. A small container, made of the magically infused snow that first fell on the Throat of the World. It is said that the Phial will replenish whatever fluid is placed inside of it. For an alchemist like myself, it is the most pure expression of my art. To create from nothingness is... poetry."

His intensity was almost frightening. "Why is it so important to you?"

"I have spent my entire life searching for it. It brought me all the way to these frozen reaches from the warm embrace of Summerset Isle. Entire years spent in libraries. Seeking out tiny villages with local legends that contain but a whisper of a hint of the Phial. I even named my shop after it, hoping that it might attract anyone who had heard of it. And now it's within my grasp ... but the Eight, it seems, have chosen me for their amusement ... for in my current condition, I'll never be able to lay my hands on it."

"We will do our best for you," Yssha promised

When Nurelion made his way upstairs, pausing occasionally to catch his breath, Yssha turned to the apprentice. "May I know your name?"

He flushed. "Sorry - I'm Quentus Navale. I came all the way from Cyrodiil just to work with Master Nurelion. He's ... he's not the best teacher. But just watching him, I've learned so much."

"Do you think this White Phial truly exists?"

Quentus shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I believe. Nurelion does, and it might be the only thing keeping him alive right now."

"I see. We will be back as soon as we can."

X

When they left the shop, a courier was waiting. He looked a bit green around the gills, which was dificult for a human, and she asked, "Are you well? Do you need a healing potion?"

"I'll be fine, Ysmir," he said, a bit shakily. "It's just ... you're hard to catch up with. I had to signal a dragon and tell him I had a couple of messages for you, one very urgent, so he gave me a ride. I'm ... well, let's just say I managed to miss him when I lost my lunch ... and breakfast, I think."

"Ah. Many people are sensitive that way." Yssha handed over a Cure Disease potion. "Drink this, it will help."

He did so, and seconds later, looked relieved. "Thanks, Ysmir." Then he dug into his message pouch. "One from the College of Winterhold, Master Wizard Tolfdir. The other one's from Falk Firebeard in Solitude. That's the 'very urgent' one."

"Thank you." Yssha opened the one from Master Tolfdir first, and smiled. "Excellent!" She turned to her team, smiling. "The College Masters have chosen Faralda as the new Arch-Mage, and Tolfdir will remain as Master Wizard. I could not have chosen better myself."

"What about the one from Falk?" Marcurio asked.

Yssha opened it, then frowned.

"Ysmir,

"We've had some disturbing information come to light regarding the events at Wolfskull Cave and the summoning and binding ritual you interrupted there.

"Given your involvement with that event I'm asking you to return to Solitude to help us once more. I'm wary of putting all the details in print, please come see me at the Blue Palace.

"Sincerely,

"Falk Firebeard"

She didn't want to read it aloud in public, so instead she handed it to Marcurio, who frowned as well, and passed it on to Nevan and Serana. "Back to Solitude, then?"

"Definitely."

* * *

As soon as they got to the Blue Palace, the team went up to see Falk, and Yssha spoke to him. "Potema again, is it?"

"Yes, old friend, I'm afraid it's not good news. When you broke up the binding, Potema escaped. We've encountered some of her minions. Styrr says she's still in spirit form or we'd all be dead already. You've already done us a service in stopping the binding, but I need you to go talk to him, to see if Styrr can tell us what to do next."

Yssha sighed. "Nothing is ever simple, is it? All right, but who is Styrr?"

"He's Solitude's priest of Arkay. He's the one who figured out Potema was still around. He'll help as much as he can."

"I will not ask why I was chosen for this job, because I believe I know - the same reason I was chosen to go after Mirmulnir. I have more experience than anyone else."

I'm not really sure. Styrr thinks you have some sort of link to Potema. I trust his judgment on this. As a priest of Arkay he's had to deal with necromancy before. Nothing as dangerous as Potema, though."

"Well, one way or the other, it is our job. We will visit Styrr right away."

"I wish you well,friend. Be careful."

X

As Falk had said, they found Styrr in the Hall of the Dead, just below the market square. He smiled at her when the team entered. "Hello, my child. Arkay watch over you." He paused, then smiled again. "I would give you the full blessing, but much of it doesn't apply to an immortal. What may I do for you, Ysmir?"

"I am hoping you can tell me more about Potema. Falk suggested I speak to you, at any rate."

Styrr frowned at Potema's name. "Ah. Former queen of Solitude and one of the most dangerous necromancers in recorded history. She was responsible for the Empire's near collapse almost five hundred years ago. I believe I have a book about her..."

"We interrupted a ritual to summon her a few days ago, but Falk says she escaped, rather than returning to wherever she was."

"Summoned in spirit form is not raised from the dead," Styrr told her. "She'll need help before she can return to the living. For the moment, the Wolf Queen has retreated to a place filled with dead eager to serve her. She has gone to her old Catacombs. A few days ago, one of her servants broke through a wall into the Temple of Divines. We'll need you to go into the Catacombs themselves."

"We can do that." Yssha's ears twitched. "It will not be our first such expedition."

"Because you were at the summoning, you have a connection to Potema now. You must deal with her. I can provide you with help for her minions, though. This should help you deal with the Catacombs themselves." He handed her a Turn Undead spell book. "As to Potema herself, find what's left of her body, likely a skeleton. Remove it from the Catacombs and bring it back to be sanctified by Arkay."

"We will do so," Yssha assured him. "Is there more we should know about Potema?"

Styrr looked thoughtful. "A curious figure. Unrepentantly evil and nasty, of course, but also astonishingly brilliant, and obviously quite a necromancer at her was always so close to being Empress, but despite her machinations, it was never to be hers. Ironically, if she were alive today, she'd be the only living member of the Septim bloodline. By all rights, she would now be Empress."

"It is well she is not, then. If there is no more, we are off to the Temple."

The priest nodded. "Taking on Potema won't be easy. But you are the ones to do it."

* * *

At the Temple of the Divines, Yssha took a few minutes to pray at the restored Shrine of Talos, despite the Dragonborn shrine beside it. then she led the team to where the wall had been shattered. As soon as they entered the Catacombs, Potama's voice spoke. "You've arrived at last. The heroine who prevented me from being bound returns to my fold. I have much to thank you for, little one. When you die I will raise you and you can take your place by my side."

It was a typical lengthy trip through the Catacombs, fighting draugr and vampires, opening assorted doors, until they came to a room with a draugr in a throne at the far end, accompanied by a vampire who didn't attack immeadiately, speaking instead. "You've come far, mortal. No doubt you seek to enter Potema's Sanctum. I can see to that. We'll need plenty of fresh corpses to rebuild her army, you see."

Then it and the draugr both attacked, and the team took them out, finding a key on the vampire's body. They went on, finding a room full of dead draugr and vampires, along with a locked gate. Potema's voice sounded again. "Not much further. Come, little thing. Serve me in death."

A vampire and a pair of draugr came to "life", and had to be slain again before the team moved forward. Serana grinned, raising more of the draugr, this time to fight for the team, and they entered the final chamber, where Potema challenged them. "You've come far, mortal, but can you stand against my inner council? Let's see!"

Lightning began to flash, and Yssha gulped a couple of Resist Shock potions she'd brought along. Lightning _hurt_ , dammit, and this was no time to be sent to Stormhaven, leaving her team behind!

It was a long fight, with Potema and Serana vying to raise draugr for their sides, but eventually Potema weakened, fleeing behind a door at the far side of the chamber.

Yssha swore under her breath, following, to find a ghostly Potema ready to fight again. And again. And again. It was half a dozen defeats before the ghostly Potema vanished permanently, and Yssha was able to take her skull from its throne.

Looking for the usual "back door" from such a tomb led them past a couple of draugr sprawled on thrones, inactive, so the team took their heads off, then continued, finding a door that gave them a view of a ship docked in the Solitude Harbor.

They descended, then went around the Harbor to enter the main gates and return to Styrr in the Hall of the Dead.

He greeted them with a smile. "You've returned! I'm hoping successfully."

"Yes, Brother. And we have Potema's remains." Yssha handed him the skull.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "These things do have a way of working out when people take action. I'll sanctify the remains."

As he hurried away with the skull, Yssha and her team left, heading uphill to the Blue Palace to report to Falk. "It is done, my friend. Styrr is cleansing her remains as we speak."

He looked relieved. "You've done a great thing, today. It doesn't matter who you supported in the war; Potema would have been a blight on the land for both sides. Without you this would have been a disaster. I should have paid more heed to Varnius' warnings. I won't make that mistake again. Take this payment - the Jarl would thank you but she very much wants to keep Potema's return quiet. Make no mistake we consider you a protector of Solitude."

Yssha accepted a heavy purse, and thanked him. "I am glad we were able to help."

Falk smiled. "I won't forget what you've done for Solitude."


	20. The White Phial

Chapter 20 - The White Phial

Yssha and her team were getting ready to mount Odahviing for a trip to Whiterun - she wanted to talk to Fusmulgar - when a courier ran up. "Dragonborn - a message from the Champion of Cyrodiil!"

Yssha turned back with a sigh, holding out her hand to accept the message. "Thank you. Go inside, if you would like refreshments or rest."

The courier didn't hide his relief. "Thanks, Ysmir!" As he headed inside, Yssha opened the message. Typically for Grams, it was short and to the point.

"Andreius is back. He's got another stop to make, then he may be heading for Lakeview. I offered to fly him in, but he prefers to travel by horseback.

"Grams"

Yssha smiled to herself. Andreius Hargan was an old friend of Grams', someone Yssha'd known all her life in the brief times he'd been in Cyrodiil. That wasn't often; he spent most of his time traveling, and not always in Tamriel. He'd spent a number of years on the Akaviri continent, she knew, but where else, she was uncertain. And he always had wonderful stories about travel and studies. She looked forward to seeing him again, but if he was traveling by horse instead of dragon, it would take him several days.

That meant she could visit Fusmulgar, and get the White Phial for old Nurelion while she was waiting. She explained to the team, and Odahviing gape-grinned. "Whiterun, then?"

Yssha nodded, getting onto his neck, followed by the rest. "Yes, please."

* * *

Not much later, they were on the Great Porch at Dragonsreach, with Fusmulgar and Farengar. She smiled at the dovahin. "Bormahu told me of his gift to you, vahriini, because he wished to know if I planned to follow Alduin's precedent of allowing breeding and nesting only in Akavir."

"And your decision, thuri?" Fusmulgar asked.

"I told him you are free to breed and nest where you will," Yssha said calmly. "I trust my vahriinne."

"You do us great honor, thuri," Fusmulgar said formally. "I will mate near home, then, and nest at the hot springs in Eastmarch."

"Do you know who the father will be? Or is that something I should not ask?"

Fusmulgar snorted a dragonish laugh. "Why should you not? Naturally, I want the strongest and most prestigious male to father my dragonet. So it is Odahviing I will call when the time comes."

"I am sure that will please him." Yssha smiled.

"If you wish to observe, though, you will need to find another ride for that once. When I call him, I will not be willing to wait for his attentions, even long enough to drop you off."

Yssha's ear-tips burned. "I ... ah ... " That sounded very much like an invitation! It was true that modesty wasn't a dovah characteristic - she couldn't remember a word for it, even - but ... "That will have to depend on what I am doing at the time," she temporized.

"We will see, then," Fusmulgar agreed. "It was kind of you to come by and tell me yourself."

"It was on my way to Forsaken Cave," Yssha said, grateful for the change of subject. "I am trying to find something called the White Phial, for an old and very ill man in Windhelm."

"I should not delay you, then." Fusmulgar inclined her head. "May you find what you seek."

* * *

On the way out of the city to where Odahviing was waiting, Marcurio chuckled. "She embarrassed you, didn't she, love?"

"Yes," Yssha admitted. "I do not know why, though. Divines know, I have seen animals breed often enough, and I know from Lokmoroyol that dovah of necessity mate in public, without shame, but something about being invited ... the dovah part of me knows it is a courtesy to one's thur, but the Khajiit part still thinks such things belong in private."

Marcurio chuckled again. "Not right now, but when you have a chance, you might want to talk to Lokmoroyol about that sort of thing. If she's awake enough, since you said they'll 'go to sleep' and eventually merge with you to where they're indistinguishable."

Yssha nodded. "I will, when we are home again."

Though she wasn't anywhere near as sure as she had been at first that she really wanted all of her soul-guests to 'go to sleep'. Most, perhaps, or the inside of her head would be entirely too crowded, but there were some she'd rather like to have at least hovering in the background. Lokmoroyol, Sahrotaar, even Mirmulnir ...

She felt a "snuggling", and Sahrotaar sent her reassurance. _If you wish us to remain aware, thuri, we will. We will not intrude, but if you wish us, you need only think of us._

Yssha was surprised at how reassured that made her feel. _Thank you, vahriini. Or may I call you fahdoni?_

She sensed warmth. _It would be an honor, thuri. Those you decide to keep awake are ... I am not sure how to say this. But we become your soul-sibs, rather than merely guests, and we appreciate the opportunity to remain aware._

 _So be it, then. And as soul-sibs, speak to me whenever you wish. I will not consider it an intrusion._

She sensed pleasure, and three dragon-presences settling into permanently aware residence in her mind.

* * *

Their next stop was Forsaken Cave, west of Windhelm. They were attacked by a trio of snow bears minutes after Odahviing left, then some lesser draugr when they got inside. Not far in, they found an obviously-trapped chest. Yssha chuckled at that, then disarmed the trap and opened the chest. The contents were promising, and even if they didn't find anything else - highly unlikely - this would be a profitable trip.

As they got deeper, the tunnel became a catacomb, with more and more powerful draugr. In other words, it was a fairly standard dungeon run, with random loot both on the draugr and scattered around. Eventually they got to the crypt area and entered a large two-level room, with a bridge across the upper level. A narrow tunnel led them to stairs, and another Deathlord guarding a chest on the far side of the bridge. In the next room, she spotted a huge ceiling spike trap dominating the center of the room. They dodged that, to fight more draugr before they got to an iron door.

Yssha sighed when she opened it and saw swinging blades on the far side. Become Ethereal took her through them unscathed, and she used a lever to stop them as soon as she became solid again.

She heard the chanting of a Word Wall as they advanced, but the head Death Overlord broke out of his sarcophagus earlier than she'd expected, since she was still a fair distance from the Wall. She and it traded Shouts while Nevan used his bow and Serana and Marcurio used their favorite Destruction spells. Given the odds against it, the Death Overlord didn't last long, and she approached the Word Wall. It gave her Aus, Leech - and completed the Marked for Death Shout.

Careful exploration took them to a tunnel behind the sarcophagus, with an ancient-looking bowl at the end. Examining the far wall showed small seams, so it wasn't the dead end it looked like, and Nurelion had said they'd need the Mixture he'd given them to reach the Phial, so she poured it into the bowl.

That did the trick; a section of the rear wall slid down, revealing a pedestal holding what had to be the White Phial.

Yssha cursed briefly as she went to the pedestal. The Phial was cracked! But she took it anyway, and collected the various alchemy ingredients the room also held, then led the way out of the cave.

* * *

Back at the White Phial, they found Quintus alone behind the counter. Yssha approached him. "We have the Phial, but it is damaged. Where is Nurelion?"

Quintus grimaced, echoing her feelings. "I'm sorry to hear that - my master will be very disappointed. He's upstairs ... he can still sit up, but his health is declining rapidly."

Yssha went up to the private section of the shop, and approached Nurelion. He was visibly weaker, and she almost regretted having to show him the Phial.

He took it from her. "This ... it matches every description of the Phial that I've found in lore. But if it can't hold liquid, there's no way of knowing. How did you manage to damage it, then? This is what I get for not retrieving it myself."

"We did nothing to it," Yssha protested. "That is how we found it."

His tone was discouraged. "Figures - I doubt you have sufficient knowledge to harm the Phial even if you wanted to. Either way, this is the end of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm not quite in the mood to entertain guests. I trust you can show yourself out. Here's for your trouble."

He handed her five gold, then made his way unsteadily to the bed, stretching out atop the covers. Yssha left, going back downstairs, where Quintus was waiting. He was apologetic. "I want to thank you for your help. I know my master can be a bit short at times." He handed her a coin purse, with what felt like about five hundred gold.

Quintus took his leave, going upstairs to tend to Nurelion in his final days, and Yssha and her team returned to Lakeview Manor. She was unhappy about failing her task for Nurelion, but truly, they had done all they could!

* * *

A couple of days later, a courier greeted her as she left the house. "A letter from the alchemy apprentice in Windhelm, Dragonborn. He says it's important, and he needs your help."

"Quintus Navale?" She took the letter, opening it immediately.

"Dragonborn -

"During Nurelion's convalescence, I've been studying the legends of the Phial. I don't know enough of enchanting to make one anew, but with the proper materials, I may be able to repair the original.

"Please come see me as soon as you can.

"Respectfully,

"Quintus Navale, Windhelm"

Yssha felt a surge of hope. If this worked, Nurelion could see his lifelong mission a success after all! She went back inside, excitedly gathering her team and sharing the news with them.

"Let's go," Marcurio said, and they headed out to call Odahviing.

* * *

Once they landed at Windhelm, Yssha wasted no time getting to the White Phial. She heard coughing from upstairs, but Quintus was at the counter, talking to a customer. When he saw her, he concluded his business quickly and turned to the team. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I have some thoughts. There are three crucial elements. Some may be easier to find than others. On the top of the Throat of the World is a patch of Unmelting Snow. No heat can touch it. Then we need the tusk of a mammoth, ground to a fine powder as only the giants know how. The final step is tricky. It requires the briar heart from a Forsworn of the Reach. If you can bring me these materials, the Phial can again be made whole."

"We will get to it right away," Yssha promised. "I have several briar hearts with my alchemy supplies at home, and Paarthurnax will know exactly where the unmelting Snow is, but where can we find the mammoth tusk powder?

"And why those indredients?" Serana asked curiously.

Despite his impatience, Quintus had no hesitation in discussing the ingredients he needed. "On top of the Throat of the World is a patch of snow that's never melted. They say the Greybeards taught it to ignore the sun, and heat simply washes over it. The original Phial was made from this snow. We'll only need a small bit for the repairs.

"The ivory produced by mammoths is as hard as iron. But the giants have found ways to make it yield _._ They're able to grind it down so fine that it can be infused into the lattice of packed snow. The finished material has the delicate nature of fresh powder snow, but the strength of the hardest steel."

He turned to Yssha. "I understand it can be found at Stonehill Bluff. Let me mark your map."

Then his attention went back to Serana. "The final tempering of the Phial was performed with a type of old magic that's been lost since the Dragon War. The nearest modern incarnation of it is the strange rituals practiced by the Forsworn. With the heart of one of their Briar Warriors, I can lock the Phial's magic into its physical form. It's difficult to explain to the layman - forgive me if I begin waxing alchemic."

Serana grinned. "You're no worse than my mother - she can go on for hours. You ought to meet her some day."

"Perhaps I will. In the meantime - ?"

Yssha smiled. "We will return in a dragon's travel time to those locations," she promised.

* * *

First was home, to pick up a briar heart, then Stonehill Bluff, up near the site for her Pale estate if she ever got around to building it. She didn't feel like taking the time to fight a giant, given what Nurelion's cough had sounded like, so she swallowed a long-lasting invisibility potion, snuck into the camp, and retrieved the powder, then snuck back out to where the rest were waiting, and they went to the Throat of the World. Paarthurnax showed her where the unmelting Snow was.

With all three ingredients in hand, they returned to Windhelm and the White Phial. "Thank the gods!" Quintus exclaimed when she handed them over. "I'll get to work on the Phial straight away."

He abandoned the counter, hurrying to the alchemy lab at the foot of the stairs. As soon as he was done, he practically sprinted upstairs, followed by Yssha.

Once there, he went straight to the bed. "Master, look. It's the Phial."

Nurelion looked disbelieving. "What? How?"

"It doesn't matter," Quintus said soothingly. "Look, it's refilling with your tonic as we speak."

"Marvelous." That was Nurelion's last word, though he managed a smile before breathing his last. Yssha blinked back tears, and breathed a prayer of gratitude for being able to fulfill his life's dream.

Quintus closed his master's eyes, then turned to face her. "He is gone. But thanks to you, he died knowing his life's work was not in vain."

"I regret his death," Yssha said. "I am just glad we were in time, with the Phial."

"As am I. You acted very nobly in helping my master realize his life's work. Thank you for that. As for myself, I've always been content to simply be an alchemist. I fear keeping the Phial would just remind me of Nurelion's obsession, and how it consumed him. Here, keep it. You are as much a part of its legend now as Curalmil was. I hope it brings you the happiness that my master desired."

"I thank you." Yssha smiled. "May he find peace in his afterlife."


	21. The Whispering Door

Author's Note: Cyclone Sword has agreed to be my beta reader from here on, which is especially welcome since his characters Andreius and Sorcalin will be appearing more often. I think you'll like his contributions as much as I do.

* * *

Chapter 21 - Catching Up

"Good greetings, Ysmir!" Hulda called with a grin when Yssha entered the Bannered Mare. "What'll it be today?"

Yssha returned the grin, seating herself on one of the bar stools. "A mug of your dragons-tongue tisane, please, and a wedge of goat cheese."

Hulda got the order and served it, then leaned against the counter to chat. "Are you here for anything special, or just visiting?"

"Just visiting," Yssha replied. "Has anything interesting happened since I was here last?"

Hulda shrugged. "Well, word is those Altmer historians are still wandering around, interviewing anyone who'll talk to them. I have to give them credit for being thorough, but I'm not sure I'd want them writing about me. Not that they'd want to!"

Yssha sighed. "Them! From what I hear of them asking, they are more gossips than historians. Who are my closest friends, what do I like to do, what are my habits ... pfaugh! I am glad King Balgruuf refuses to let them into Skyhold, so they cannot annoy my family. I will be happy when they return to their Historical Institute."

"You're not the only one, Harbinger," Aela said. "I don't like them - they smell of deceit. It's nothing I can pinpoint, and it's not a true scent, just ... they make me uneasy. I would tell them nothing."

"I trust your instincts, Shield-sister," Yssha said. "I hope you told the others your feelings."

Aela nodded. "Of course. They found Jorrvaskr less than hospitable. And I think they found the same in Riften, if rumors are correct." She paused, then cocked her head. "On a different subject, we of the Circle have been doing as you asked, and evaluating possible replacements for you."

"Good; I appreciate that. Were you able to come to any agreement?"

"Eorlund Grey-Mane." Aela grinned. "No one currently in the Circle is suitable, and none of the rest are any better."

That summarized her own thoughts, soYssha nodded. "He is not a Companion himself, however. I thought that was a requirement - ?"

"It's best," Aela said, "but under the circumstances ... we need a resident Harbinger, as you pointed out yourself. Eorlund's been with us almost as long as Kodlak was, and knows our history and traditions as well as anyone else. Plus he has the wisdom and cool-headedness the leader of the Companions needs."

"Very well - if he will accept the position, I will gladly step down in his honor. Will you ask him, or should I?"

"Would you, please? He's likelier to accept that way."

"Very well. As soon as I leave here."

"A moment, please, Ysmir?" Hulda said. "There's something else you should know. Been hearing some strange tales of the King's children. Say the one's turning wicked, and the others have an ill-favored look to them."

"I will be visiting Dragonsreach, of course - I will ask him if there is anything I can do to help."

Yssha went up to the Skyforge alone, and approached Eorlund, who was working at the grindstone. "A word with you, if I may?" she said.

He stood, and smiled at her. "Of course, Harbinger. What is it?"

"Just that, the position of Harbinger. You are aware, I am sure, that I do not feel I can retain the title when I am so seldom here to carry out the responsibilities."

Eorlund nodded. "And that you asked the Circle to decide who it should be. They've done so?"

"Yes. I saw Aela at the Bannered Mare, and she told me they could only agree on one person. They wish you as Harbinger, my friend."

"Me?" Eorlund was clearly startled. "But I'm a blacksmith, not a warrior - or a Companion!"

Yssha chuckled. "They - and I - know that, but it seems neither is a necessary qualification. They believe, and I agree, that your wisdom and even temper make you more suitable than any of them. Will you do it, guide the Companions as Kodlak did?"

Eorlund frowned, and Yssha was afraid he would refuse, but slowly, he nodded. "How could I deny _you_ , Dragonborn? Yes, I'll do it, as a tribute to Kodlak. But I'm not going to start sitting inside Jorrvaskr all day - they'll have to come up here with their disputes." He grinned briefly. "Worst comes to worst, I'll have to knock the twins' heads together to get them to be sensible."

Yssha purred with amusement. "It may not be so bad - I never had to Shout at them. I thank you, my friend, and I am proud to be the first to name you Harbinger. I shall let them know, then I must visit Dragonsreach."

When she went back down to the training yard, the Companions were waiting, and Aela looked a bit nervous. "What did he say?"

"He was somewhat reluctant, but he agreed. Though you will have to take any disputes up to the Skyforge."

"Good!" Aela exclaimed, and the Companions cheered, then made for a mead barrel and cups on one of the tables.

Yssha grinned at that, then left for Dragonsreach. "I fear several Companions will be feeling unwell tomorrow," she said, and Marcurio laughed.

* * *

Balgruuf waved Yssha forward as soon as she entered the throne room. "Welcome, Ysmir! Business, or pleasure?"

"It began for pleasure," Yssha replied, "but I hear rumors there is trouble with your children."

"Yes, my youngest son," Balgruuf said, frowning. "He's a dark child. I don't know what to do with him. He was always a quiet lad, but lately ... something has changed. He's become brooding. Violent. He won't say a word to me, but I don't know how I've upset him. If you could speak to him? Draw out the truth. I would be immensely grateful."

"I will be happy to help." Yssha said. She didn't know any of his children well, and remembered Nelkir as a rude boy, accusing her of being there to lick Balgruuf's boots. But he was a child, and he apparently needed help, so she approached him where he was toying with some food at the table.

"Good day, Nelkir. I understand you are having some problems, and your father asked me to speak with you."

"So the disgusting pig sent you to bother me?" Nelkir said bitterly. "One day, I'll tear his face apart so he can leave me alone." He was silent for a moment, then continued. "My father doesn't know anything about me. But I know about him. And about the war. More than he might think."

"And what do you know?" Yssha asked curiously.

"I know that he still worshipped Talos after that was forbidden. That he hates the Thalmor almost as much as the Stormcloaks did. That during the war, he worried about being chased from Whiterun." He hesitated, then added, "That he ... that I'm ... that I don't have the same mother as my brother and sister."

"I see. And how do you know all of these secrets?"

"This castle is old. Lots of places nobody's been in a long while. Places where you can overhear things. See things." He grinned, then finished with, "And the Whispering Lady."

"Who is this Lady?"

"She won't tell me her name. I've gotten good at listening to keyholes. At the door in the basement, I hear her talking to me. I thought I was caught, but she started telling me even more secrets. But I can't open the door."

"Just where is this door?"

"In the basement. Trust me, you'll see it. I bet she'll talk to you, too."

"Then I shall find out." Yssha rose. "I will be back." She'd been here often enough to have a good idea of the layout, so she went through the kitchen and downstairs. As Nelkir had said, she found a locked door hidden inside a storage room. It looked like it was smeared with blood, though she didn't smell any. As she approached it, she heard a voice from the other side.

"At last. I've been waiting for someone more fit to carry out my will. The child is spirited, but lacks ... agency."

Yssha bit back a curse. That was no Divine, from the intonation, so the odds were it was a Daedric Prince. And not one of the nicer ones, either. "Is there someone behind the door?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot reach your plane so directly. But I forgive you for not knowing who I am; few hear my whispers any more. I am Mephala, the Lady of Whispers. I tug at the web of connections between mortals. Love, hatred, loyalty, betrayal. The boy was good at sussing out secrets. You, I expect to take a more active role."

Mephala, was it? Yes, she would take a more active role indeed, but not what she was sure the Daedra expected. "What do you want me to do?"

"First, you must open this door. A piece of my power has been locked behind it, and even my eyes cannot see past the seals. I'd much rather that it were in the hands of an ambitious and talented person, such as yourself."

"How do I open the door?"

"The whole of Whiterun is rife with paranoia and tensions. The King's court is right to fear the power that lies behind this door. The King trusts few, and they will be his undoing. The dark child knows of what I speak. Let him guide your path."

Yssha left the door, returning to the throne room, where she gave Balgruuf the signal that she needed to speak in private.

"Will you join me in my office, Ysmir?" he asked, rising from his throne and leading the way. Yssha and her team followed, taking their usual chairs. "Have you found out anything?" Balgruuf demanded.

"I have, my King. Are you aware you have Mephala's artifact, which I know as the Sword of Betrayal, in the basement of your palace?"

He sighed, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Yes. It was the only thing Farengar and I could think of to do with it. So that thing's what has been changing Nelkir?"

"Not the Sword itself, no," Yssha told him. "But it gives Mephala a 'foothold' in Mundus. It is she who has been corrupting Nelkir."

"Ah, Divines help me!" Balgruuf said with a groan. "Is there anything you can do, Ysmir?"

"Not I, but I have been promised aid in eliminating such artifacts. If you will admit me to that room, I will ask my zeymah to take it to Aetherius."

Let's go, then." Balgruuf moved faster than Yssha would have thought possible, practically running down the stairs, through the obstacle course of the kitchen and storage room, to unlock the door.

Yssha picked up the ebony, katana-shaped Sword of Betrayal, and Talos appeared to take it from her. Then he turned to Balgruuf. "I hear your prayers, my child, and always answer, even when the answer is not what you wish. But yes, your youngest son will be freed of Mephala's influence, though it may take some time for him to recover completely."

"Th ... Thank you, Lord!" When Talos and the Sword of Betrayal vanished, he shivered, turning to Yssha. "You call Him your brother?"

"We share a soul-father, Akatosh, so yes. Had the dragons reappeared in his time instead of now, I would have been unnecessary, so I must admit, I am rather glad he was too busy building the Empire to do both that and go after Alduin. I like life, even with its pains and challenges, for the good parts, like Marcurio and my friends of all species."

Balgruuf shook his head as they went back up the stairs to the kitchen. "You are hard to understand, Ysmir - though perhaps I should expect that. I mean, welcoming beastfolk into Skyhold?"

Yssha chuckle-purred. "Have you looked at me lately, Highness? I mean really looked?"

His expression was priceless when she twitched ears, whiskers, and tail simultaneously. Then he flushed with embarrassment. "Ah ... yes. It can be hard to remember you aren't just an unusually small Nord with some odd mannerisms, like purring. Especially when you're in armor, and not much shows ... "

"It is all right, Highness," she reassured him. "I am just pointing out that it should be no surprise that I welcome other beastfolk."

"I suppose not." Balgruuf sighed, then smiled. "With both the Champion of Cyrodiil and the Dragonborn being Khajiit, I suppose I should be surprised more of at least your people aren't welcomed throughout Skyrim."

"It takes more than two people to correct prejudices, especially when they are partially based on fact," Yssha conceded. Khajiit did tend to use psychoactive substances, and many were minor thieves, which would make them less than respected. She carefully didn't point out that beastfolk other than herself weren't allowed in Whiterun City, either ...


	22. Taking the Throne

Author's Note: With the arrival of Andreius and Sorcalin, I'm pleased to begin crediting Cyclone Sword as co-writer, as well as beta reader. I'll still be doing the primary writing, but he will have considerable input and influence on the story.

* * *

Chapter 22 -

Yssha smiled when she opened the note from Grams that a courier had dropped off the previous evening. It was typically brief, and welcome news. She read it aloud to Family and staff.

"Told you earlier that Andreius and Sorcalin are back. They're planning to wander the Northeast part of the Empire for a while, so don't be too surprised if you run into them in your own travels. - Grams "

"Andreius sounds Imperial, and Sorcalin more Altmer," Marcurio said. "I gather they're friends of yours?"

"Long-time friends of the family," Yssha confirmed. "I have known them as far back as I can remember. And you are right; Andreius is Imperial, Sorcalin Altmer. So I must make a trip to Helgen, and inform Hadvar that Sorcalin may enter Skyhold. I certainly do not wish an old family friend barred from my home!"

"And it's about time you take a look at your Palace," Nevan added. "It's been almost three weeks, so Ragnar will be expecting you."

Yssha had given up on protesting about the trappings of being a Jarl and Dovahjud, so she simply nodded. Divines, she'd even used a number of training-lost scales to make herself a set of colorful dragonscale armor that she privately called her "fancy-dress" set, for when she held audience. It was as strong and well-enchanted as her "work" armor, but she didn't wear a surcoat with it; instead, she wore a snow-bear-fur cloak Balgruuf had given her, that set the colors off very nicely.

"You are right, I should," she agreed "Very well, I will wear my dress armor and take the Stormcrown, and we can go to Helgen. I suppose I should also hold audiences."

Marcurio nodded. "I think so - and if I may be excused from those, I've got some business I'd like to take care of. Some investments I've been considering. And did you ever decide about Jorrvaskr, since I'm going to be in Whiterun?"

"Hmm? Did I forget again? Yes, please tell Harbinger Eorlund that as my legacy to the Companions, I wish to repair Jorrvaskr's hull." She sighed. "I think of that every time I see it, but forget between times. Perhaps since I rarely sleep there, and do not have to put up with the leaks myself."

Marcurio chuckled. "Maybe you should get a shipwright to check the whole thing out, so the older sections don't just fall apart all the time. A good tarring and caulking wouldn't hurt, either. Though it might be cheaper to just replace the whole thing."

Yssha chuckle-purred. "No, the repair would be better, considering the Companions' liking for tradition. If we can afford it, of course."

Marcurio laughed. "Easily, love. Between profitable adventuring, our porter service, and your crafting, we've become pretty well-to-do. We can afford just about anything you want, except the White Gold Tower."

"Then I will stop worrying, beloved. I still remember when I first arrived here, on a cart to be executed, and penniless. Chopping wood for Hulda until I thought my arms would fall off, harvesting crops, and bartering for every septim I could get out of a chipped iron dagger."

Marcurio chuckled. "I remember those days too, but they're long past. These days, it's the other way around - more money than we know what to do with. Other than fund your orphanages, of course."

Nevan murmured to himself for a bit, and when Marcurio looked at him curiously, frowned a little. "Just trying to remember my economics classes," he said. "We can talk later, okay?"

"All right." Marcurio grinned. Nevan was strange, but his ideas were almost always good.

* * *

Yssha had spoken with Hadvar and cleared Sorcalin for entry to Skyhold if or when he and Andreius arrived, then gone to see Ragnar about progress on her Palace. To her surprise, the basic construction was almost done, with much of the current delay being a wait for mortar to cure before the main roof went up and decorations began. The pavilion in front was complete, with draperies behind a very impressive dragonbone throne, and she sent Mirmulnir a thought. _Yours, fahdoni? And do you truly not mind?_

 _Mine indeed, thuri. See how my wings enfold and protect you? I am yours, in all truth, and honored to be your First._ He sent humor. _Though not in the way I would have preferred it! Being your first mate would have been much nicer than being your first kill as Dragonborn, though I cannot regret that, ether, since I am now part of you. Will you wear the Stormcrown and take your throne, dii jud ahrk dii thur? [my queen and my overlord]_

Yssha agreed, putting on the Stormcrown and seating herself. The enfolding wings seemed protective, yes, shielding her from any possible threat. She knew that wasn't true, but it was a very pleasant feeling while it lasted.

almost as soon as she sat down, Ri'Jarr approached and bowed. "This one is pleased to see you again, Dovahkiin. It is pleasant not to be traveling all the time, and the luxuries of a solid roof and a soft bed are most welcome."

Yssha chuckle-purred. "You are settled in, then?"

"This one's Family is still at the inn, but your people have been most helpful. Marcus bought our general goods for enough to set up a home and shop, where this Family will live and Tsrava can make and sell jewelry. Next door, a smithy is being built where J'Gashta may practice his armorer's skills."

"He is a smith? Excellent!" Yssha was glad to hear it. Helgen had Marcus' general store, an apothecary, and Patsy's inn; now it would add a jewelry store and smithy. A clothing store would be nice, and a furniture maker, and a brewery, maybe a vintner - Yssha broke off that train of thought with the rueful realization that it was how she'd expect a ruler to think. Planning for her city and its inhabitants, being concerned about what they'd need to not only survive, but thrive ...

Still, someone had to do it, and she was planning to restore what she thought of as the Great Cooperation between people and dragons, so she supposed it was appropriate. "If Ri'Jarr's Family wishes investors in its businesses, he should speak to this one's husband, Marcurio. He is interested in making such investments in businesses he finds properly managed, and he knows that Khajiit traders are shrewd businesspeople. And that 'shrewd' includes being honest enough to maintain repeat customers."

Ri'jarr snorted, almost a dragon laugh. "Indeed, including illegal substances. Which this one and his Family will not handle, in a Hold kind enough to take us in. But they make no promises as regards other Holds."

Ysssha laughed. "This one would not expect that, though since she feels certain obligations toward King Balgruuf, she would appreciate it if Ri'Jarr's Family would extend that courtesy to Whiterun. In return, she will petition entry to that city for you."

"Done and done!" Ri'Jarr exclaimed. "This one feels most fortunate that Dovahkiin intercepted his caravan. And asks that she thank the red dragon for stopping his horses and carts with minimal damage."

"Better yet, Ri'Jarr may extend his thanks himself, since Dovahkiin wishes to encourage such cooperation." She Shouted for Odahviing, at no more than normal volume, knowing he would hear her these days, regardless of how loudly she Shouted.

Ri'Jarr turned when he heard the sound of wings and a dragon landing, to see the red dragon touch down and incline his head to the Khajiit on the throne, then speak. "Geh, thuri?"

Yssha smiled. "Thank you for coming, fahdoni. Ri'Jarr wishes to speak to you."

"Geh?" Odahviing turned to the gray tabby. "You led that caravan, a few days ago."

Ri'Jarr gave the dragon a formal, hands-to-shoulders bow. "This one did, and wishes to thank you for your aid with our horses and wagons. This one and his Family are most grateful."

"You are welcome," Odahviing replied, remembering exchanges he'd heard between humans. He wasn't quite sure what it meant, but even millennia ago, it had been a courteous response. Then he turned back to Yssha. "It is good to see you taking on the proper trappings of a joor ruler, thuri." He looked quizzical. "Not that you are joor, but you still have a vodovah [not-dragon] form."

"I understand, fahdoni," Yssha replied. "It is something I must do, under the circumstances, you know."

"Geh. And now that you are taking up those responsibilities, it is time for us to acknowledge you formally. And you, us." Then he Shouted. "Paarthurnax!"

Moments later, the Grandmaster of the Greybeards landed, taking in the scene, and nodded. "So. Good. We who follow the Way of the Voice do not take a thur, but ... Zu'u Paarthurnax, dii jud."

Mirmulnir fed her the proper response. "Drem yol lok, Paarthurnax. Zu'u Dovahkiin, hin jud."

Then he stepped back, and Odahviing took his place. "Zu'u Odahviing, dii jud ahrk dii thur."

Again she replied formally. "Drem yol lok, Odahviing. Zu'u Dovahkiin, hin jud ahrk hin thur."

Then Paarthurnax Shouted, "Pah Aav Het!" [all join here] He and Odahviing took off, and others began arriving. Dovgrahaak was next, with Franken and his bodyguard, then Pahovdein, who was assigned to the Emperor, alone. Fusmulgar, with Balgruuf and Farengar. Ahkrinbo, with his team. Durnehviir, alone as always. And more, and more.

The townsfolk came and went, most watching for a few minutes before returning to their daily routine as dragons arrived, acknowledged Yssha as queen and overlord, were recognized and acknowledged in turn, and departed. It was late afternoon before the steady stream of dragons tapered off, then stopped, and Odahviing returned with her team. "That was well done, thuri, but you look fatigued. Are you ready to return home?"

"Definitely," Yssha said, hiding a groan as she stood. "I do believe such ceremonies are more tiring than even a large dungeon. They are also the reason I never wanted to rule anything."

Understandable," Odahviing said with a nod. "Fortunately for you, we have few such, and this should be the only one so massive."

She joined her team on his neck, and they flew home. Supper was welcome - she'd missed lunch - and she accompanied it with a rare glass of wine. Afterward, they gathered in the family room, and she smiled at Marcurio. "How did your day go, beloved?"

"Better than yours, I'm sure." He grinned. "We have at least one partnership in every city in Skyrim, more in most. Investment opportunities are easy to come by, if you're related to the Dragonborn. It also didn't hurt that you've made friends of so many people."

Yssha chuckled. "Or that you are known as a reliable businessman yourself, with the porter service. Is there more of that you need to do tomorrow?"

"No, the investments and agreements have been registered with the Jarls' stewards. Except here, where you don't have a real staff yet. You need at least a steward and housecarl, and you probably ought to get a court mage, as well. Especially if you plan to keep adventuring."

"Which I do," Yssha said. "I had hoped to do that on Solstheim tomorrow, in fact, after a full day of sitting and repeating the same allegiance affirmations. I need action, but I suppose I should really find that staff first."

"Sorry, love, but you really should," Marcurio said gently. "Someone needs to take care of the day to day running of even a small hold, and you don't even want to live in your Hold capital. But it shouldn't be too difficult, given that you have housecarls who're acting as glorified caretakers and would probably be happier doing some real work. The most difficult will probably be finding a court mage."

"Let me think." She did her best thinking aloud, and was glad if the others responded. "Argis the Bulwark as housecarl, I think. He is physically impressive, even for a Nord. As steward ... hmm. I only know Lydia's capabilities well enough in that field, but I have no idea if she would be willing to leave Whiterun's familiar surroundings for such a post in what is essentially a new city."

"It'd be worth asking," Serana said. "She's been handling your sales and Breezehome for some time, as I understand it."

"As for a court mage," Nevan said with a grin, "you're trying to get the Odmer into above-ground society, right? So why not call ... uh, Odsotkiin - ? and his riders? Faralda said the Odmer are as good mages as Altmer, and you've got a lot of credit with them for restoring them from Falmer."

"Good points, both of you. So I will call Odsotkiin tomorrow before shift change, and speak to Lydia and Argis. Then perhaps we can go fight something, and burn off some of the frustration from today."

"I think we can do some preliminary frustration-easing earlier than that, love. Or at least ease your discomfort from sitting so long." Marcurio frowned. "Does that throne have a tail-slot?"

"No," Yssha replied. "And you are right; I feel like the muscles at the base of my tail are tied in knots."

"Okay, then this meeting is at an end," Marcurio said firmly. "You need a hot soak, love, then some massage therapy." He grinned. "Then maybe a bit more, and tomorrow I use an Alteration spell on the throne. Adrianne really should have known to leave you tail-space."


	23. Household Affairs

Chapter 23 - Household Affairs

Yssha was armored and armed before dawn, yawning as she went outside before even having her first cup of tisane. "Odsotkiin!" she called.

The frost dragon landed moments later. "Geh, thuri?"

"I hope you are off duty, but I need to speak to your riders."

The two Odmer slid off Odsotkiin's neck. "And what is it, Dovahkiin-Yssha-Ysmir?" Marcellus asked.

Yssha smiled. "You know I have been named Jarl of Skyhold?"

"And Queen of the Dov, yes." He smiled. "We were riding Odsotkiin when he acknowledged you, but you were looking a bit ... ah ... distracted by then."

Yssha's eartips warmed. "I am sorry ... but there were so many ... "

"The proprieties were carried out," Odsotkiin said firmly. "That is what counts, and we are many to your one. It is no wonder you cannot recall each individual oath."

Yssha bowed formally. "I thank you for that understanding, vahriini. But yes, I need advice from your riders." She turned to Marcellus. "If you understand the term 'court mage', I am informed I need one for Skyhold. I would like your advice on how to find one among the Odmer."

He cocked his head. "I don't know the term, and I fear it vanished during our ... unfortunate change. Can you clarify?"

Yssha hid a sigh. "Well, I shall do my best. A court mage studies and researches magic, supplies spells for the court he or she serves, and advises the ruler on magic-related affairs as required. As I am very new to rule, that is about all I can share with you, since it is all I know."

"I can't think of one right away, but we will spread the word among our kin. A few might prefer a warmer location than Winterhold; some do come from dwarven ruins, with their steam heat. What qualifications are you looking for?"

"Adept or higher level knowledge of and skill in at least four of the magical schools, since it is prmarily an advisory position," Yssha replied. Specialization, if any, is unimprortant."

"That shouldn't be difficult," Marcellus said. "I'd be surprised if you don't have several candidates in a couple of days."

"Good - thank you." Yssha smiled. "I will let you go to your rest, then, while I take care of some other positions."

* * *

After breakfast, they went to Whiterun, where she stopped at Breezehome to talk to Lydia. She'd missed young Yssha's early birth, since she and her team had been in Vahlok's Tomb at the time, but she'd made it for the naming ceremony. She smiled at her namesake's cradle when Lydia opened the door. "How are you and the family?" she asked.

Lydia grinned. "About how you'd expect with a baby - Elrindir and I share the nighttime chores, but we're both tired most of the time. That'll improve when Yssha starts sleeping through the night, I hope! But it's worth it, and her grandmother says she's better than I was at her age. Would you like to hold her for a bit?"

"Certainly!" Yssha entered the house, and walked over to the cradle, pleased when the baby reached for her with a rather bubbly smile. She picked the infant up, careful not to scratch her on the scales of her armor, then winced when Yssha grabbed her whiskers and pulled. "Ow! Let go, youngster!"

"Let me," Nevan said with a chuckle. "We'll amuse her while you chat with Lydia."

Yssha handed the baby to him and turned to her first housecarl, now steward of Breezehome. "I do not know if you would be willing to move, but if you are willing to consider it, I have a position I need to fill in Helgen."

"And what would that be?" Lydia asked.

"I need a Hold steward, and given the time you have spent in Dragonsreach learning Skyrim politics, you are the obvious choice. But it necessarily means moving to Helgen. You would live at the Helgen Inn until the palace at least has a roof, and I would provide a nursemaid to care for young Yssha while you see to your duties."

"I'd be honored, my Thane," Lydia said. "But obviously, I need to talk to Elrindir before I give you my final decision. He may not want to sell the shop, or leave his brother."

"Of course," Yssha agreed. "The job offer will remain open until you tell me you do not want it, if that is your decision."

"Thank you, my Thane. I'll talk to him over supper, and I'll send a courier tomorrow morning to let you know. Ah, Helgen or Lakeview?"

"Lakeview - I doubt I will ever lose my dislike of living in cities, even with modern amenities like plumbing and Dwemer lamps."

A knock on the door interrupted before Lydia could say anything else, and she answered it. "Excuse me, Steward," a man's voice said. "We understand Ysmir is here. King Balgruuf would like to see her at her earliest convenience."

Yssha and Lydia exchanged glances, then Yssha sighed. "I am coming," she called, leaving the house to find a pair of Whiterun guards. "Is something wrong?"

"Not that we know of, Ysmir," the senior replied. "If I were to guess, I'd say he just wanted to speak to you before you leave."

"I would have anyway, simply as a courtesy," Yssha said, but accompanied them to Dragonsreach, chatting amiably. If she recalled correctly, these were two of the ones who'd fought Mirmulnir with her.

In Balgruuf's throne room, she approached him and bowed. "You wished to see me, my King?"

"Yes, Ysmir. I found yesterday's ceremony rather confusing, and I would like to know exactly what was going on, and what was being said."

"It is actually quite simple, Highness," Yssha replied. "It was a formal stating of what has been fact almost since Alduin's defeat. The dragon would introduce him- or herself, then in most cases, add, 'my queen and my overlord.' I then introduced myself, and added, 'your queen and your overlord.' Those who follow the Way of the Voice left off the 'my overlord' part." She paused, thinking. "They spoke only for themselves," she added, "not for their riders. Apparently it could not be formalized until I accepted the trappings they expect of their queen and overlord."

"Ah, now I understand." Balgruuf nodded. "I've learned from Fusmulgar how formal dov tend to be. Far more formal than we Nords, certainly!"

He seemed relieved, and she smiled. "I serve the Emperor and you, so they do too, but through me rather than directly. You need not worry about their loyalty."

"Then I won't. But you must admit, it seemed peculiar to an outsider."

"It seemed peculiar to me, as well," Yssha admitted. "The first I knew about it was when my mentor Paarthurnax acknowledged me as queen. Mirmulnir had to tell me the proper reply."

"Mirmulnir - the one you killed at the Western Watchtower? He speaks to you?"

"He has become a friend, since I absorbed his soul. Most are fairly quiet, though I can communicate with any of my soul-guests when I wish, but Mirmulnir, Sahrotaar, and Lokmoroyol remain 'awake'."

Balgruuf shook his head. "Better you than me, Ysmir. I don't know how you do it - I sometimes have problems with just me in here."

"One does what one must," Yssha said. "Had I not had at least Sahrotaar and Mirmulnir, I very much doubt I would have survived that illness."

"I know, but still ... " Balgruuf sighed. "Visiting my niece and her baby, hmm?"

"Yes, and inviting her to become my Steward at Helgen. I am sure Fusmulgar will oblige, if she takes it, whenever you wish to visit."

"I'm sure - she's very obliging, especially when it comes to travel. And I'm starting to enjoy flying, myself." He went back to the previous subject. "Lydia's a good choice. If Proventus ever decided to retire, she was on my short list, and not because she's my niece. Would you like me to talk to her on your behalf?"

"Please, no - I do not wish her to feel pressured, when she has a husband and child to consider."

"All right. But now that you've reassured me - "

"I have a province to run," they said in chorus, and Yssha continued as courtiers laughed. "I also have to transfer one of my housecarls, and find a Court Mage, since I do not wish to steal Farengar from you." That was only a half-truth; she'd very much like to have Farengar as her Court Mage, but not to take him from Balgruuf. He'd made a bad first impression, true, but unlike Delphine, she'd come to like and respect Farengar.

* * *

Markarth. She hated the City of Stone, even more than she disliked most cities. Cold, damp, and especially stairs. Stairs, and more stairs, and still more. But she made her way to the top of the city, and her Markarth house, Vlindrel Hall. She couldn't call it a home, since she'd never lived in it, and had only furnished it so her housecarl, Argis the Bulwark, would have a decent place to live.

When she and her team entered, Argis was in the sitting room, reading. He rose when he noticed her, smiling. "Welcome, my Thane. What may I do for you?"

"A cup of tisane for me, whatever the rest of my team and you want, then some conversation."

"Of course." When that was done and everyone was seated, he looked at her curiously. "Yes, my Thane?"

"I have been unfair to you, leaving you here to do nothing but house-sit while I go about my business, because Odahviing can carry only four. Do you have any particular attachment to Markarth?"

Argis studied her. "Why, my Thane?"

"Because if you would wish it, I would like you to remain my housecarl, but find another caretaker for here, and follow me to Skyhold."

To her surprise, he surged to his feet, his mead spilling, and shouted, "YES!" Then he calmed, grinning widely. "Housecarl to a Jarl, and of the largest Hold on Nirn? Of course I accept, my Jarl!"

"Excellent! Then find a house-sitter you can trust, and bring your things to Helgen." She handed him a coin-purse. "Also better armor, if you wish."

"Thank you, my Jarl. I'll be there as soon as I can - call it three or four days."

"That is fine. By that time I should have heard from the one I wish as my Steward, and I hope to have a Court Mage on staff as well. Until the Palace has a roof, at least, you may stay in the Keep - which is also our storm shelter and hydroponics garden - or at the Inn."

"The inn, thanks. I'll start packing as soon as we're done, and find a caretaker this evening at the Silver-Blood, or tomorrow morning. There're plenty of folks who'd like a job like that."

"Good. We will leave you to it, then."

* * *

Back at Lakeview Manor after lunch, Yssha got out the list she'd begun keeping of jobs she had promised to do for people. Going after Arondil's Journals for Vekel the Man could wait, and most of the others sounded time-consuming ... ah, here was a good one. "Since I dislike just waiting for a message, I think I shall go across the lake and try to find another volume of Shalidor's Insights for Urag. As this is simply so I can get some action after yesterday, if any of you have things you would prefer to do, feel free."

"And maybe miss some excitement?" Nevan said with a grin. "Not likely, since Freyr's still building muscle before I graduate him to a blunted iron sword instead of the wood."

"Nothing I can do about the Helgen investments till you have a steward," Marcurio added, "and I can't see Serana letting Nev go without her."

"You have that right," Serana agreed. "So let's go get that book."

Instead of bothering Odahviing for such a short trip, the team took the fishing boat across the lake and tied it up to one of the dock posts, then approached the trap door atop the mostly-submerged tower. Nobody knew how or why the fort had sunk most of the way into Lake Ilinalta, and Yssha was more interested in finding Urag's book than in speculating, so she led the way down the ladder. At the bottom, she found a skeleton chained upright, with a knapsack at its feet. Among its contents was a journal.

"A decent catch of fish is getting harder to come by. Without a good spot soon, I don't think we'll survive the next winter, so I'm traveling further south towards Lake Ilinalta. Folks say it's cursed. Whole Imperial Fort just sank into the water one day, and they say the ruins have been haunted since.

"When I asked, I got ghost stories. Tales of people who went out near the lake and never came back. They say spirits haunt the hallways of the sunken fort and steal little children from their mothers' cribs. No amount of coin could convince any of the nearby villagers to guide me there, so I'm following the White River.

"Divines protect me. I hope the stories aren't true."

"Poor guy," Nevan said. "A fisherman, just trying to make a living. Hope he didn't suffer too much when whoever it was got him."

"I cannot be sure, but at a guess, I would say necromancers, given the way he is shackled."

"Probably," Marcurio agreed as he and Serana prepared spells, while Nevan readied his bow and Yssha got ready to Shout.

They made their way into what looked like a library, with a black-robed necromancer sitting at a table, and a skeleton. Nevan's weapon was the quietest, so he took out both, and they continued. The next room was a dining area, followed by a kitchen. Yssha used Unrelenting Force a couple of times on more necromancers and skeletons, letting the other three finish off their foes from range once she had them down. Then came a flooded room, with another necromancer and a wolf. After a few more necromancers and skeletons, they got to a very different section of the ruin.

How different, they didn't realize until they came to a cell block with several holding cells, and to Yssha's astonishment, encountered a couple of restless draugr and an Overlord. That wasn't supposed to happen - granted, draugr were undead, but not the sort of undead usually found around necromancers! She exchanged Shouts with the Overlord, taking it out with Flame Breath while the others handled the weaker ones.

From there, they followed a passageway into a tower and upstairs, to a tower room, where she saw another draugr, this one in decaying Dragon Priest robes but no mask, slouched in a stone throne. It was awake, its glowing eyes watching them, but for some reason, it wasn't attacking. Instead, it stood slowly, and spoke rather than Shouting. "Zu'u hon dovah ... nuz dreh ni koraav gein." [I heard a dragon ... but do not see one.]

Yssha frowned, but put her mace away, and the rest followed her example. "Zu'u Dovahkiin. Zu'u lost dovasos ahrk dovahsil, nuz ni kopraansedov." [I am Dovahkiin/dragonborn. I have dragonblood and dragon-soul, but not the body of a dragon.]

"Ahrk rinik mul Thu'um," [And a very strong Shout], the draugr said slowly.

"Geh. But my companions are not yet fluent in Dovahzul." Yssha paused. "Alduin fell to my Thu'um and my sword. Paarthurnax has taught me, and Odahviing was my first, but far from only, vahriin. Who are you?"

"A kaaz defeated Alduin?" The draugr shook its head. "The world stands on its head. But I am Qolaas. I was a Dragon Priest novice when I was killed in the Dragon Wars. How I came to this desolate tower I do not know, but I still wish to serve the dov." It hesitated. "If it is true you defeated Alduin, then you are the most powerful dovah in the history of Nirn."

Then, to her astonishment, it knelt clumsily and lowered its head to the ground. "Command me, dii thur ahrk dii rah." [my overlord and my god].

Yssha looked around, to see Marcurio looking sympathetic, but Nevan and Serana were grinning, and it looked like the former vampire might start laughing.

She turned back to the prostrate draugr, remembering that Talos had warned that she would be worshipped. She sent him a desperate plea. _What do I do, zeymah?"_

 _Accept her, then use the Slen Tiid Vo Shout. She will do no harm, and she will provide a temple and alternate focus for your devotees._

 _I shall, then._ Yssha bent over and touched the draugr's head. "Rise, Qolaas. Your service is accepted, and I grant you the status of full Priest."

It was hard to read a draugr's expression, but this one looked almost pathetically gateful when it stood. "Brace yourself," Yssha said. "Your present form would discourage other worshippers, so I will restore your original one at the time you died."

"I ... I am ready," Qolaas said.

"Slen Tiid Vo!"

And the draugr's flesh returned. Definitely female, Yssha conceded. A well-built Nord, perhaps a bit plump, with pale skin, red hair, and ... freckles? Unfortunately, her robes hadn't been restored along with her body, so several parts of her weren't covered very well, and the two men in the party made appreciative noises.

Qolaas looked down at herself, and grinned, running her hands down her hips. "Thou art generous, my Lady God. But I was not _quite_ this immodest, in life. Though I do enjoy thy men's admiration."

Yssha glared at them. "Does no one know a conjuration spell for cloth?"

Nevan took pity on her, conjuring up a bedsheet. "Here, Qolaas."

The former drauger wrapped herself in it, then turned back to Yssha. "My Lady God?"

"We return to my manor, and try to decide how and where you can best serve me."

"Just tell me how, my Lady God. I will do it happily."

Yssha sighed, then 'ported them to Lakeview Manor's teleport point. She'd send someone for the boat tomorrow.


	24. Old Friends

Chapter 24 - Old Friends

Halfway through supper, Yssha realized that finding Qolaas had made her forget her original purpose for going to Ilinalta's Deep, namely retrieving the volume of Shalidor's Insights for Urag. Well, she could take care of that in the morning; she remembered the tower chamber well enough to use it for a teleport target.

As soon as it was light enough for the tower chamber to have some illumination, she went there and searched the chest beside the throne Qolaas had been using. Yes, the book was there, along with some gold, a few gems, and an ebony war axe. Then she returned to her and Marcurio's bedroom, where he looked at her curiously.

"Forgot something," she said, holding up the book and grinning. "Are you ready for breakfast, beloved?"

"Yeah - let's go. Winterhold this morning, right?"

"Yes, but we wait until Lydia's courier arrives. I am truly anxious to know her answer."

"Okay."

The rest were in the main hall when they arrived, including Qolaas, now wearing some of the clothes Yssha's team had recovered from various dungeons. She looked happy at that, turning to Yssha. "You are most kind, my Lady God. But I would like the robes proper to being Your Priest, if that is permissible, and ... if I may be so daring ... a mask."

Yssha thought quickly. "The robes, yes, though you will have to describe them to a seamstress, and wait until they can be made. But times have changed, so I think no mask." She grimaced. "I was hunted by Miraak's masked cultists, and have fought several masked Dragon Priests, who cheated by teleporting during our battles. So masks have a very negative connotation for me."

"Of course, my Lady God." Qolaas bowed. "Thy will rules."

"In that case, eat your breakfast, then you may go out and speak to the dragon who guards my home, and his team."

"Yes, my Lady God." Qolaas ate quickly, then left, and seconds later, Yssha heard Ahkrinbo's startled, "Qolaas!" followed by an equally startled, "Drog Ahkrinbo! Hi aam Dovahkiin?" [Lord Ahkrinbo! Thou servest Dovahkiin?]

"Geh. But use the common speech. Our thur wishes it."

"Yes, Lord." Qolaas' tone was submissive, and their voices dropped.

"This is going to be very difficult to get used to," Yssha commented. "Not that such problems are uncommon for this group."

Nevan snorted. "Let's see. I got yanked to a different universe, you got told you're a dragon, Marcurio _married_ a dragon, and Serana got turned into a vampire, then yanked four thousand years into her future and became human again - yeah, we're a stable bunch, all right. And now you get called a god. Sounds about par for the course."

Yssha might not know the slang, but she got the general idea, and chuckled. "I see what you mean, vahriini. Let us go see what further shocks lie ahead." She swallowed the last of her tisane, then headed outside.

Qolaas was talking quietly to Ralof and Ahkrinbo, so Yssha went to the archery range and readied her crossbow. It wasn't that she needed practice, because it was as natural to her as Shouting. It was the still-novel fact of actually being able to put an arrow - well, a bolt -where she wanted it to go!

She didn't notice the courier until he spoke. "Nice shooting, Ysmir! Message from your steward in Whiterun."

She slung the crossbow on her back, then accepted and opened the envelope, smiling as she read Lydia's note. "Elrindir says we'd be foolish to pass up such a wonderful opportunity, so I accept. Baby Yssha and I will be in Helgen sometime tomorrow with enough clothing and such to hold us until Elrindir can get Breezehome packed up and decide what to do about the shop."

"Good news," she called to her team. "Lydia has agreed to be Skyhold's Steward!"

"Then once she gets settled in, I'll confirm those investment contracts," Marcurio said with a grin. "That's two-thirds of your senior staff, and Marcellus and Leras are finding you candidates for the third."

Odsotkiin and Odahviing both landed nearby, and Odsotkiin's riders slid off his neck, approaching. They bowed to Yssha, but before Marcellus could say anything, Yssha raised a hand. "A single name only, please. I will answer to any, but only one at a time."

"Your dragon name, then," the Odmer decided. "We found several willing to be considered for the position you offer, and Master Wizard Tolfdir explained it more fully. Were I not a dragon-rider, I would apply myself."

"You seemed to be in a hurry," Leras added, "so they will meet at the Frozen Hearth at noon today for your selection."

Yssha smiled. "Not that much of a hurry, but I must admit that timing is most convenient, since I need to deliver a book to the College librarian."

Marcellus chuckled. "Master Urag? He is a most interesting mer. Threatened me with angry atronachs if I so much as looked cross-eyed at his books."

"Oh, he does that to everyone," Yssha assured him. "I was cautioned the same way, even after I became Archmage. But I like him, so when time permits, I find books he wants. Normally, those searches are relatively uneventful, but this time - " She waved to where Qolaas was chatting, "I, ah, acquired a Dragon Priest. Priestess, rather."

Both dragons studied the redhead, and Odahviing snorted a laugh. "You seem to have a talent for getting involved in things you would rather not, thuri, not so? I had never thought to see one of our priesthood again, much less in your service. But what will you do with a Dragon Priestess?"

"I most definitely do." Yssha sighed. "Talos says I should let her provide a temple, to divert worshippers' attention from me." She shrugged. "So I will do that. Why? Do you have a suggestion?"

"Actually, yes." Odahviing gape-grinned. "And it fits in with our zeymah's. Send her to Solstheim, with orders to bury the dovahhe Miraak slew, then cleanse and re-sanctify his temple. It can become a place of pilgrimage for your worshippers, and possibly ours should any wish to worship those who serve you. That will keep them out of your fur."

"And Solstheim is a long journey for pilgrims, as well as poor enough to welcome their money." Yssha nodded slowly. "An elegant solution, fahdoni." She looked over at the trio. "Qolaas, would you come here, please?"

The Dragon Priestess joined them, bowing to Yssha, then the other two dragons, greeting them by name. "I am at your disposal, my Lady God."

Yssha hid a grimace. "Just use my name, please, or add 'Lady' if you must. I would like you to go to Solstheim and provide the proper rites and burials for those of my kindred that Miraak killed, then cleanse and re-sanctify his temple in my name. Afterwards, care for any pilgrims who wish to visit."

Qolaas looked delighted. "It would be my great honor, Lady Dovahkiin. I will start immediately."

"Not quite, since you will need appropriate attire, and Raven Rock has no clothiers I am aware of. Take my carriage to Solitude first and visit the Radiant Raiment. Describe the robes you need to one of its proprietors and stay at my home in that city until at least one set is complete, then go to Windhelm and take ship for Raven Rock." She handed over a coin purse. "If this is not sufficient, just tell anyone who provides you services or merchandise to put it on my bill."

"As my Lady Dovahkiin directs." Qolaas bowed deeply, then took off for the carriage.

Yssha grinned at Odahviing. "It is always pleasant to be able to make someone happy."

"For you and those sworn to you, yes," he agreed. "But I think you may not realize just how happy you have made her."

"Oh?"

"You found her yesterday, did you not? When she was killed, she was a novice. Today you have made her High Priest of your first temple, skipping any intermediate ranks. That simply did not happen, back in her time."

Yssha grinned. "She is the first living Dragon Priest since then, too, so it seems appropriate. But we need to go to Winterhold, please. I have a book for Urag, then interviews for a Court Mage."

* * *

Yssha stopped by the Archmage's quarters first, to pay her respects to Faralda, the new Archmage. But Faralda was away, so she went on to the Arcaneum, ignoring the people in the reading nooks, though she did chuckle when she scented an old friend. Business before pleasure, though, as he would tell her himself. She didn't see him at any of the inner ring of tables, either. She'd probably find him behind a stack of books at one of the outer ones, when she was done.

At Urag's desk, she cleared her throat, and the Orc looked up at her. "You have something for me, Dragonborn?"

"That volume of _Shalidor's Insights_ you asked me to retrieve," Yssha replied, handing it over. "And I wonder - have you considered sending scribes to record dragon memories? I can assure you, they are quite vivid, and the dov are not reluctant about telling their tales."

Urag looked briefly puzzled, then shook his head, looking disgusted. "No ... they're living history, and I should have, but the thought never occurred to me."

Yssha grinned at him. "If I had the time, I could write some myself, thanks to my soul-guests." She made a rueful face. "I found out how good their memories are the hard way, when I absorbed far too many at once."

Urag was clearly enthralled by the idea, now that it had been presented. "First-hand accounts of the dragon civilization, from the Merethic Era forward ... Such volumes would be invaluable! Almost nothing has survived from that era, you know. Yes. Thank you, Dovahkiin. I'll hire some scribes and get started right away!"

Yssha heard steps approaching behind her, and scented her friend, so she was smiling when she turned. "Sorcalin! It is very good to see you again." He was quite a bit taller than she, even in his everyday Altmer form, but he still had a slight scent of wet dog from his other shape. The mix of Altmer and wolf made his scent unique, and impossible to forget.

"And you, my young friend." He grinned down at her. "You're doing well?"

She grinned back up. "'Define your terms,'" she quoted, one of his favorite sayings.. "'For what value of 'well'? And where is Andreius?"

Sorcalin chuckled. "Quoting me to myself now, youngster? I'm glad you haven't forgotten what I taught you, at least." He grinned at her. "Andreius is down in the inn, and just the ordinary meanings."

"In that case, I am doing quite well," Yssha replied. "And you? You have been gone for some time."

"Doing some sailing and exploring," Sorcalin replied. "We'll tell you all about it. We had a few adventures, but mostly fairly calm. Calmer than what we heard of you on the way here, at least."

"My team and I have kept busy, yes," Yssha said. "I am eager to see Andreius, and I have to interview some mages." She assumed her best innocent look. "Unless, of course, you have changed your mind about settling down, and would like to move to Helgen and become my Court Mage."

As she had expected, Sorcalin drew himself up in false insult. "A noted explorer such as myself, settling for a single town, and reduced to Court Mage? I think not!" Then he smiled. "Go say hello to Andreius and interview your mages. I have a couple of books I'd like to finish, but I'll be at the inn in time for lunch."

"This isn't the place for a reunion," Urag chided them. "My Arcaneum, despite my excitement earlier, is a place for quiet study."

Yssha and Sorcalin traded amused glances. "Later, then," she said. It had been a few years already; a couple more hours wouldn't matter.

* * *

When the team entered the Frozen Hearth, Yssha was surprised at how many people were there. And it looked larger than she remembered from her earlier visits. Before she was able to find Andreius, she heard her name - well, her Skyrim name - called. "Ysmir! A moment of your time, please."

She looked around, and saw Jarl Kraldar waving to her. "Over here."

She made her way through the crowd, taking a seat at his table. "What is it, my Jarl?"

He chuckled. "First, use my name. Yes, you're a Thane of Winterhold, but you've also taken up a material Hold of your own, Jarl Ysmir. And considering what you and your restored Odmer are doing for Winterhold, I'm the one who should be using honorifics for you!"

"Odahviing landed me at the College, so I did not notice much of the city except what we passed on the walk here. I did see that two houses have been rebuilt and looked lived-in, but other than that, what has been happening to have you so happy?"

"It's more than just two, Ysmir - there are over a dozen now, and Winterhold almost deserves to be called a city again. Our attitude toward magic got modified when our new citizens started moving in and using it to repair and rebuild homes and businesses, including some for the folk who lived and worked here already. They're paying for houses and land in gemstones and ores, so I'm able to hire more construction workers for the streets and public buildings. I'm even considering a wall, and if I do that, hire guards instead of depending on the Legion and putting up with their complaints about the weather."

"That is most impressive, my - ah, Kraldar." Yssha smiled. "I should apologize for not sending mages down to help when I was Archmage, but I did not think they would be well-received."

"They wouldn't have been, so not sending them was a wise decision. But Odmer arriving with gems and ores, actually wanting to be part of the city, and practically worshipping Dovahkiin ... well, they were a whole different matter. And when a couple of them became dragonriders, that was even better."

Yssha nodded. "Marcellus and Leras, yes. But I may steal one of your Odmer, or perhaps a family, since they tell me they have candidates here for the Court Mage position at Skyhold."

"Then repay me by clearing the Sightless Pit, when you get a chance. That'll give us more Odmer and an empty Dwemer ruin."

"It will be done," Yssha promised. "I am pleased to see Winterhold doing so well. But if you will excuse me, I am trying to find an old friend I was told is here."

"Don't let me stop you." Kraldar smiled. "Go find your friend."

Yssha stood, and began looking again. It wasn't long before she found Andreius, surrounded by Odmer, happily being his usual gregarious self. She watched and listened, smiling, until he noticed her. "Yssha!"

"Andreius!" She hugged him, licking his cheek. "It has been too long, fahdoni!"

He pulled back, holding her at arms' length. "You're looking good, kid. But I hope that wasn't an insult."

"Ah, apologies." Her ear-tips warmed. "No, I just fell into my native language again. It translates as 'my friend'."

"Native language? That damnsure wasn't Common or Cyrodiilic."

"Nid, Dovahzul." She flushed again. "I mean, no, the dragon language. I am Dovahkiin, Dragonborn. Once I began remembering the language, it became more natural to me than any other. I find myself falling into it more than I should, perhaps - but others are starting to learn it, as well."

"I've heard the Dragonborn bit, but ... my little Yssha, a dragon? It's hard to believe, you know, even with all the stories we've heard ..."

Yssha sighed. "Probably all true. I am Dragonborn, I absorb dragon souls, Akatosh has made me immortal. I married a wonderful man who is a talented Destruction mage. I rule the dragons, and am the equivalent of a Cyrodiilic Count in Skyrim, but with a far greater territory. My other companions are a former vampire, and a genetic warrior from another universe. Not that I expect you to believe any of that, since there are times I do not believe much of it myself."

"Well, since Ysshaya's one of the ones who told us, I believe you completely. And I believe these Snow Elves have been waiting for you."

"I was not expecting them until closer to noon, but if they are early, so much the better. Have they told you why I wish to speak to them?"

"Yep. You need a Court Mage." Andreius snickered. "Didn't I warn you about coming to official attention, girl?"

"Yes, as did Grams." Yssha grimaced. "That became impossible after Alduin attacked Helgen, however. And my efforts to fade back into the background since have not been terribly successful."

He touched her shoulder sympathetically. "They seldom are, so that's not too surprising. And I'd say you've handled it well."

She smiled at him gratefully. "You have not met my team yet, though you have certainly heard of them. So, my husband Marcurio. The former vampire, Serana. And the out-plane warrior, Nevan. We work very well together, despite our varied origins." She turned to her team. "And this is Andreius, a friend of the family for as long as I can remember. You can get acquainted while I take care of my interviews."

By the time Sorcalin joined them and was introduced to the team, Yssha had made up her mind, and Rajay was off to tell his family and pack for the journey to Helgen. She grinned at how well her team and old friends seemed to be getting along.

Marcurio glanced at her and smiled. "So when are we going to take care of Jarl Kraldar's job?"

"We might as well do so while we are in the area," Yssha replied. "Would you two care to join us?"

Andreius and Sorcalin exchanged glances, then nodded. "It sounds interesting," Sorcalin said. "When do we leave?"

Yssha took out her map. With six people, they'd have to walk, and it looked like about a three-hour trip each way, if the weather cooperated. "In the morning, I think. I will go out and call Odahviing, ask him to let Rayya know we will be overnighting here. If you wish to join me, I will introduce you."

They nodded again, and followed her outside. At the edge of town, she called her senior vahriin. When he landed, she made introductions, and he cocked his head, studying Sorcalin. "Daar gein mungrohiik." [That one is a werewolf.]

"Yes, I have known that for a long time," Yssha said. "Would you tell Rayya, please, that we will be staying the night here, to start a task early tomorrow?"

"Geh, thuri. Zu'u bo." He left.

"So, I gather he identified me," Sorcalin said.

"Yes. He used the dovahzul in case any strangers were in the area." She hesitated. "My team will need to know, you realize. But they will not betray your secret, any more than I would."

"Of course," Sorcalin agreed. "My wolf will need to sniff them and identify them as allies before we go into combat, but that will be when we're well out of town tomorrow."


	25. The Sightless Pit

Chapter 25 - Sightless Pit

They left shortly after breakfast, heading south out of Winterhold. The easiest and fastest route to their destination was south to Azura's shrine, which she thought Andreius would appreciate, then west to the Sightless Pit.

About a mile out of Winterhold, Sorcalin called them to a halt. "We're far enough from town for me to show you my ... ah ... special combat ability."

Serana grinned. "I figured it out as soon as we met, since I used to be a shape-shifter myself. Go ahead; you'll find no hostility from us, since Yssha says you're a friend."

""I thought you were a vampire," Sorcalin said cautiously.

"Yeah, but Vampire Lord variety," Serana responded. "You know, the ugly body and useless-looking but very effective wings type. Compared to that, a werewolf is ... normal-looking. By my standards, anyway." She grinned. "The team kept my secret. We'll keep yours."

Sorcalin found that odd, but also oddly reassuring. "Very well." He slid his hand into his robes, nudging the Ring of Hircine onto his finger, then called on his inner wolf.

The Ring made the transformation easier and faster, though it still wasn't instantaneous or painless ... but at least he'd been able to design and cast a spell that sent his clothing away when he transformed, and brought it back when he returned to his original shape. He felt bones shift and reform, a muzzle grow, mass adding to his body, coarse fur covering him ... then he rose in the glory of his wolf, taller than any of the others, or even himself in his Altmer form.

But these were friends of his friend and other-self, so not to be killed. He began sniffing them, committing the scents to memory in his "ally" category. The Khajiit was already in that category, since he'd known her from her youngest cubhood.

Once Sorcalin had memorized the new scents, he changed back. "All right. there shouldn't be any problems, but it'd still be a good idea to stay clear, if you can, if I have to change."

"Hopefully you won't have to," Marcurio said. "You're quite an impressive were!"

"He is, isn't he?" Yssha said with an admiring smile. "For a long time, I thought that was the norm. I am glad we will never have to fight him; a normal werewolf is bad enough."

Marcurio had noticed Sorcalin's ring, and nodded. "Hircine's Ring makes him special, all right."

"You know what it is?" Sorcalin asked.

Marcurio grinned. "I study history for the fun of it, so yes, I can identify most of the greater artifacts, and have a pretty good idea of what they can do."

"Oh? Andreius is a bit of a historian himself; you might enjoy chatting sometime."

"So what's our route?" Andreius asked.

"South as far as the first pass, then west to Sightless Pit looks like the shortest way," Yssha said. "There is what I am told is a beautiful shrine to Azura a bit south of the pass, if you wish to visit." Azura was the second of the two Daedric Princes she had no particular dislike of, so she wouldn't mind a visit to the shrine. Hircine ... well, she'd say nothing against him out of respect for Sorcalin, but like most Daedric Princes, he made her uncomfortable at best.

"I'll pass on the shrine until we've accomplished your mission," Andreius replied. "Let's go."

It was a beautiful day, clear and cold, the snow firm underfoot, and Yssha was surprised to find she was enjoying the walk. She and Sorcalin were on point, Marcurio and Andreius behind them talking history, and Nevan and Serana on tail.

"So," Sorcalin said after a few minutes. "What's it like, being a dragon?"

He sounded honestly interested, so Yssha replied soberly, rather than trying to tease him. "Truly? It feels normal, most of the time, since I was born this way. You talk of your wolf spirit like a separate being, but the dragon soul I was born with _is_ me." She paused. "But the ones I have absorbed since are separate, yes. Almost all are 'asleep' most of the time, but three of them remain, with my permission, 'awake' and aware."

"And how do they feel about inhabiting the body of a Khajiit?"

 _I will answer, thuri, if you permit_ , Mirmulnir sent. When she agreed, he spoke through her. "I am Mirmulnir, one of the waking three." Using her shoulders, he shrugged. "Except for one regrettable lack, it is ... not unpleasant. Her mind is comfortable, and her Thu'um stronger than mine ever was. Three of my scales are part of her everyday armor, and some of my bones have been forged into her thrones."

Sorcalin nodded. "So you're content, except for one thing. What's that?"

"Wings," Mirmulnir replied promptly. "To fly, she must borrow another's wings, and for a dovah accustomed to soaring Kynareth's Breath unhindered, that is ... humbling. Embarrassing."

Sorcalin nodded soberly. "I can understand that. So you wish she could fly on her own."

"We do," Mirmulnir said. "But Bormahu has given us the great gift of our thur's immortality. Asking for more would be an act of ingratitude."

With that he retreated, and Yssha was fully herself again. "Does that answer your question?"

"Very well, thanks." Sorcalin smiled. "Though I'm not sure I'd be that happy to be part of someone who'd killed me."

"Nor would I," Yssha agreed. "Fortunately, neither of us will have that problem. And I am extremely happy that it is only dovah souls I absorb. I would truly hate to be burdened with those of the other types I must kill. Though I do make it a point to keep empty soul gems on hand as a safety precaution!"

Sorcalin chuckled. "Probably smart," he agreed, then pointed ahead of them. "Snow bear - you want it, or shall I?"

"You and Andreius have not seen me Shout yet, so I will take it, if it attacks." That happened as soon as it spotted them, and began its charge. "Fus ... Ro Dah!"

The bear was thrown back, but this one wasn't smart enough to run, unlike some, so she Shouted again. "Yol ... Toor Shul!" This time, it died in her flames.

"That was ... impressive," Andreius said, joining them. "I'm surprised you even bother with physical weapons, with that kind of power."

Yssha chuckled. "Shouts are powerful, true, but most are area effects. Even the Fire and Frost Breath Shouts are difficult to focus tightly enough to strike only an individual, if he is not alone. If I want to target an individual or trap a soul, my mace is better. Or Dragonbane, against a dragon."

"Trap a - oh. You can't cast a spell and Shout at the same time."

Yssha nodded. "That is correct. Which is also why I carry healing potions, even though I have gotten fairly skilled at the Healing spells."

"I get it," Andreius said with a grin. "Dragonbane's your sword?"

"Yes." Yssha touched its hilt. "But since the only dov not sworn to me now are Paarthurnax's Way of the Voice acolytes, I am planning to retire it. My mace is more effective against other foes, with my crossbow for ranged attacks."

"I hope you're better with that than with a conventional bow," Andreius said dubiously.

Nevan laughed. "Wait'll we run into something else and show 'em, thuri!"

"If Sorcalin gives me the chance," she said.

The Altmer gave her a skeptical look, but nodded."I'll promise, if you get it ready now. And if you miss, I take action."

"Fair enough," Yssha agreed. She unslung and cocked it, carrying a bolt ready to load, and they continued on their way. Behind her, Andreius and Nevan were discussing her marksmanship, and Andreius proposed a ten-septim wager on her accuracy. Maybe an hour later, they turned off the road and began climbing the pass. Another hour, and they were passing the rear of Azura's Shrine, with the Daedric Prince raising her arms into the air, one hand holding a star, the other a crescent moon.

Shortly after that, Yssha heard a roar, and shouldered her crossbow, loading it. This was a frost troll, charging as usual. She waited until it was in easy range, about a hundred and twenty feet, said, "Left eye," and pulled the trigger.

The troll pawed at its face, then staggered and fell. Sorcalin led the way to it while she re-slung her crossbow, following him.

Sorcalin looked impressed when she approached, but it was Andreius he spoke to. "Looks like you owe Nevan ten septims, partner."

"And an apology for doubting him," Andreius said, handing over the coins. "Last time I saw her shoot, she'd have missed something the size of a troll at that distance, never mind a called eye shot."

"With a conventional bow, I still would," Yssha admitted. "The skill does not carry over."

"Well, neither of us will question your ability with a crossbow again."

* * *

They reached Sightless Pit about an hour before noon, and found out why it was Pit rather than Cave - the entrance was like a well, rather than a standard cave entrance. "We won't be coming back out this way," Sorcalin observed. "Who's first?"

"I am," Yssha said. "I need to restore the Falmer, and the Shout I was given for that purpose renders them unconscious while they return to Snow Elf form. So as long as I see them first, we will combat only their livestock, the chaurus. Not that those are not dangerous enough."

She thought for a moment. "Judging from the entrance, quarters underground may be somewhat cramped, so Nevan next, then Sorcalin. That puts our strongest hand-to-hand fighters immediately behind me, if needed. Then the rest of you."

She dropped down, casting Candlelight as soon as she landed. It was a frozen cavern, larger than she'd expected, and dimly lit by glowing mushrooms, so there would be no need to refresh Candlelight. She moved out cautiously, hearing the rest land behind her. Being a Falmer den meant traps, so she remained alert for pressure plates, tripwires, and other triggers. Almost as soon as she passed the first one, she saw a Falmer ahead, and Shouted. "Sot ... Gein Daal!"

The Falmer collapsed, and she felt a touch on her shoulder. "How long before it changes?" Sorcalin asked.

"A few minutes, perhaps four or five," Yssha replied. "Would you like to wait and watch?"

"Very much," the Altmer replied, with Andreius joining in.

"All right - the rest of us have seen it several times, so we will keep watch for chaurus and frostbite spiders."

There were no interruptions, then she heard an unfamiliar voice, and turned to see Sorcalin helping the newly restored Odmer stand, pointing to her, so she joined them.

He bowed to her, still somewhat disoriented, but his voice firm. "Dovahkiin Ysmir Yssha - so the visions were true. You will return all my brothers and sisters?"

This was something new. Always before, she'd had to restore large groups before encountering one of their clergy. "Yes, I will, and gladly. I introduce my friends Sorcalin and Andreius - my team is on the lookout for possible problems."

"And I am Corellon, senior priest of our temple." The Odmer smiled. "Auri-El told me of your coming, and that we were to prepare ourselves for Restoration. Also that I was to see no harm came to you, so at my most recent visions of your arrival, our chaurus were penned. I regret I could do nothing about the spiders, though."

"A name, and a temple?" Yssha was having trouble believing her ears. "Both are new for the Betrayed, in my experience."

"A temple, yes. Auri-El chose to preserve this one, as it is full of records of the Times Before, which is where I found a name. Come, I will escort you and yours the rest of the way."

This was totally new, but Yssha followed Corellon through the Pit, Restoring groups of Betrayed as the group encountered them. The temple was huge, with a library taking up most of the southern wing, and a central statue of Auri-El in the same ancient style she'd seen in the Chantry. She stopped there long enough to pay her respects to Akatosh, then continued following Corellon until he led them to an exit.

"We thank you for your assistance," she told him as they prepared to leave. "This has been the easiest and most pleasant Restoration mission my team and I have had."

"Any others will be similar," Corellon said. "You do Auri-El's will in this, so it is in His interest to make it ... how do I say this? Less hazardous for you, since you face enough other hazards."

* * *

On the way back toward Winterhold, they encountered a group of vampires, but before Yssha and the team could respond, Sorcalin growled, "These are mine," and began to transform. Except for defensive measures just in case, Yssha signalled her team to stand down, and they simply watched.

Sorcalin's wolf took over, and he was ... awesome, was the best word Yssha could think of. He was messy, tearing vampire after vampire to shreds and then feeding on them. But then, some of her Shouts had equally bloody effects, she thought, flashing back to Ulfric Stormcloak smashed flat on the stone floor of the Palace of Kings. No, she had no grounds for feeling in any way superior.

When he was done and came loping back toward the group, she reminded herself how long she'd known he was a werewolf, though she'd not seen him in action before, and smiled.

He transformed, straightened his robes, and stared at her, almost in a challenge. She stared back, feeling Lokmoroyol grin, and his eyes dropped after a few seconds. "Well done," she said. "My dragons honor your ferocity."

"And I honor theirs," Sorcalin said in a near growl, then the odd glitter left his eyes. "Thanks for leaving them to me. I haven't hunted in a day or so. I'm sorry for the mess, though - my wolf isn't exactly a dainty eater."

Yssha chuckled. "Neither are dragons - we are accustomed to such messes. No apologies are necessary, though it was kind of you. Shall we continue, then?"

* * *

When they neared Azura's shrine this time, a disembodied voice spoke. "Your day's companions appeal to me, my Champion. You have my encouragement to be open with them."

Marcurio swore under his breath, then turned to Andreius. "So my guess was right. Nerevarine."

"Talking history with you was irresistible, even though I'm afraid I gave away more than I intended. Yes, but please keep it confidential, as Ysshaya has."

Yssha looked at Andreius in awe. "I ... I ... the way you talked to Grams sometimes, I thought perhaps ... but really?"

"Really, youngster." Andreius hugged her. "You're not scared of me now, are you?"

Yssha returned the hug. "No. More ... " She frowned, uncertain of what her reaction really was. Grams was Champion of Cyrodiil. Uncle Andreius was the Nerevarine. She herself was the Dragonborn. Uncle Sorcalin was ... well, Hircine's.

She sank to her knees, in the meditation posture the Greybeards had taught her, and let her mind go blank as she sought guidance. _All is well, my child,_ a familiar presence assured her. _Hircine's Chosen has a vital role to play at the climax of your final tempering, and it will be good for you to have a human companion through the ages, along with your dov._

 _Thank you, Bormah._ She knew better than to ask about her final tempering, but once it was over, she fully intended to ask the reason for it. In the meantime, all she could do was wait, and dread whatever it was to be.

As she rose, there was a merciful distraction. In the distance, off to the northwest, she heard a Call. "Zu'u Los Bo!", and she chuckled.

"I've heard that before, several times," Andreius said, helping her to her feet. "What is it?"

Yssha shaded her eyes, looking northwest, then pointed. "See that speck?"

"Yes."

"That is a female dragon, announcing that she is flying." Yssha chuckled again. "Those other specks approaching her are males who wish to sky-dance with her. If you are unfamiliar with the term, that is what they call recreational mating."

"Oh." Andreius gave her a curious look. "So there's a big fight in the offing?"

"Oh, no, no - status is well established by now, so at most a bit of jostling for precedence among those closely ranked. She will see that all goes smoothly."

They watched briefly. From this distance, no details were visible, but Andreius said, "I see why they call it sky-dancing."

Yssha nodded. "Dragons on the wing are as graceful as they are clumsy on the ground."

There were no further distractions on the trip back to Winterhold, so Yssha took the opportunity to invite them to Skyhold when they had the time. Then Sorcalin went back to the College, Andreius returned to the Frozen Hearth, and Yssha reported to Jarl Kraldar.

* * *

Author's Note: Updates will very probably be slow between now and the New Year, due to family obligations. Expect to be back on regular schedule the second week of January.


	26. Hammerfell Rejoins

Chapter 26 - Hammerfell Audience

"Pahovdein?" Yssha was surprised at the dragon who landed while she was fishing for dinner. "A moment, please." She landed her prey, and grinned. She'd been right; a slaughterfish, uncommon in Lake Ilinalta, but delicious, when properly prepared. "Frejr!"

Her son ran up, grinning. "Yes, mama?"

"Could you take this to Rayya, please? Some seared slaughterfish would make a nice lunch."

He grinned. "Sure. Yum!"

The fish was almost as long as her son was tall, but the weapons exercises he'd been doing under Nevan's tutelage had him strong enough to wrestle it uphill on his back. Yssha turned back to the dragon. "What is it?"

"His Majesty invites you to the White Gold Tower at your convenience, Dovahkiin thuri. For an audience with the Hammerfell ... I am not sure if he meant Ambassador or King, since he is just learning Dovazul, and said Lotgein. But he asks that you appear as Stormcrown. With your usual escort."

Yssha grinned. "If he puts it that way, I can take time for lunch. Would you tell him I will be there, in proper garb, in two hours?"

"Geh, thuri." Pahovdein took wing, and Yssha headed home.

After lunch, she put on her dress armor and bearskin cloak, put the Stormcrown in its carrying case, then went outside and called Odahviing. "To the Imperial City, please," she said. "This will be a diplomatic thing, so I have no idea how long it will take."

"Then I will drop you off and visit with Dovgrahaak until you call."

* * *

Grams was waiting at the Arena when Odahviing landed, and she greeted the team when they dismounted. "Nice outfit," she said. "The bearskin's typical Skyrim, isn't it?"

"It is traditional for those who can get one, yes. It is as close as I can come to being what the rest of the Empire thinks of as a 'Nord barbarian'." She grinned. "Which, I admit, is not very, but Balgruuf finds it amusing."

Grams chuckle-purred. "He would! I like that man's sense of humor. Come on, let's get to the Palace." As they walked, she briefed them. "The diplomats finished up the treaty yesterday; you're here for the signing ceremony. I flew King Raccan the Bold in this morning." She paused to chuckle. "I'd better warn you - it's called the Stormcrown Treaty, and he refused to sign if you weren't here. And he's made it quite clear the only reason he's bringing Hammerfell back in is the added strength the Skyguard gives the Empire."

"Given that the Empire couldn't defend it during the Great War, that's understandable enough," Marcurio said.

"Uh-huh. But let's not bring that up, shall we? Titus is still a bit sensitive."

"Of course not," Marcurio agreed. "Not that we do more than stand around for ceremonies like this, anyway."

"It is not much better if you are a participant," Yssha pointed out. "I offer that affirmation ceremony as an example."

"Yeah - fortunately, we didn't have to be present for that."

"Affirmation - oh." Grams chuckled. "Lokbiidaan told me about that. I know it was rough on you, youngster, but it made your dragons very happy."

Yssha nodded. "The dov have little use for possessions, since they lack hands, and since I became thur, they no longer crave domination. Instead, they crave admiration, and value things of the mind - conversation, ceremony, status, the number of vodovahhe who look to them for protection and assistance."

She saw Grams' look of confusion. "Vodovahhe - not-dragons. It is easier than listing men, mer, and beastfolk every time, and lacks the implied superiority of calling them 'joorre'. 'Vodovahhe' are to be helped and protected, not sneered at, with certain exceptions."

"Such as?" Grams asked, then added, "No, let me guess. Thalmor, bandits, necromancers, and such?"

"Precisely. Those are referred to as 'gogille' - literally, that is 'goblins', but as used, it is a term for any intelligent being they consider vozin, honorless, who would harm those they should protect."

They were at the White Gold Tower by then, and the conversation came to an end as they were escorted to the Emperor's private office. He was waiting for them and stood, smiling. "Ah, there you are! It's good to see you again."

"And you, Your Majesty." Yssha bowed politely, and he returned it. She usually deferred to him, but everyone here knew that was a matter of courtesy, not relative rank.

"If you're ready?"

She nodded, and the two put on their crowns, then led the rest to the Throne Room. The chair she'd used earlier, when the Emperor had abrogated the White Gold Concordat, still stood beside the Ruby Throne, but it had been decorated with carvings of dragons, and covered in gold leaf, so it could honestly be called a throne itself, now. A table stood a few feet in front of the throne dais, holding two copies of an elaborately decorated parchment, an inkwell, and a large number of quills. Yssha would have been surprised at that, if she didn't know that official documents were signed one letter at a time, the quills later handed out as gifts.

Emperor and Stormcrown took their seats, and Titus nodded to his Chamberlain.

He smiled, opening the main doors, and pounded his staff of office on the floor the traditional three times. "Your Majesties, I am honored to announce His Highness, King Raccan the Bold of Hammerfell!"

The King entered, followed by several members of his court, who joined the Imperial courtiers as their king approached the table. He bowed. "Your Imperial Majesty. Stormcrown."

The two inclined their heads, acknowledging him, and for the first time, Yssha was glad Grams had made her attend audiences often enough to learn the basic protocols. Left to her own devices, she'd have stood and returned the bow, but that wasn't how things were done at this level.

Raccan made a brief speech, asking the great honor of membership in the Empire for his realm of Hammerfell, land and sky. That was new, Yssha thought, but then Titus spoke. "As Sovereign Emperor of the Tamrielic Empire's land and waters, We are pleased to incorporate the land and waters of Hammerfell into Our Realm."

 _That's your cue_ , an amused Talos told her. _Just use Stormcrown and Dovahjud_. Yssha sent him gratitude, then spoke. "As Stormcrown and Dovahjud, Sovereign of the Empire's sky and air, We are pleased to incorporate the sky and air of Hammerfell into Our Realm."

Then she and Titus stood, approached the table, and took turns signing the two parchments. The treaty itself was a much less elaborate, but also longer, pair of documents off to the side, but these were the signatory documents that made the treaty effective, and each side would have one copy of each. Then King Raccan signed both, and made the formal announcement. "As ruler of Hammerfell, no longer sovereign, I thank Stormcrown and Emperor for their generosity, and acknowledge their sovereignty."

That got loud cheers from everyone but the three rulers and the guards as they returned to their thrones. "You could have warned me," Yssha grumbled, barely loud enough for Titus to hear her.

"Raccan said he wanted to use a new formula," Titus said at the same volume, "but he wouldn't tell me what it was, just that it would take both of us to accept Hammerfell. So I had to improvise."

"Forgiven, then."

The signing ceremony hadn't been too bad, but having to sit through the celebration following, pretending to enjoy herself while sitting on a throne, bored the stuffings out of her. She'd have to figure some way of amusing herself at such times, she decided, because as an immortal co-ruler, she'd probably have to put up with a lot of it.

 _You could always share memories with us_ , Lokmoroyol told her. _The three of us who remain 'awake' can give you over twelve thousand years' worth, and those who mostly 'sleep' ... well, there are probably enough memories in all of us to last until the sun burns out._

 _Not shared memories_ , Yssha replied. _Those are too absorbing - I am barely aware of anything happening around me, and at times like this, I really ought to be able to respond if someone talks to me. Tinvaak, though, would be welcome._

 _Is there anything in particular?_

 _Well, in some stories I have heard - and Nevan says in his universe as well - dragons are notorious hoarders of wealth such as gold and gems, but I have seen and sensed nothing of such a drive in any of those I know or have absorbed._

Lokmoroyol sent unrestrained laughter. _Why would we do any such thing? Firstly, even a gem you consider large is barely a flyspeck to someone the size of a dovah, and the same goes for your coins. And they are useless, impossible to mate with or eat._ She considered for a moment. _Books large enough for us to open and read, or with a vodovah to read them to us, might be a different matter, since they are repositories of knowledge and thought, both worth cultivating. Poetry, prophecy, fiction ... those are also worthy of dov attention. Your literature is very different from ours, just as our forms are very different. Unfortunately, what was recorded of ours was destroyed during and after the Dragon Wars, when the Dragonguard and then Blades were destroying any traces of us they could find._

 _I wonder, then, how such stories got started_ , Yssha mused. _But perhaps a repository of your literature survives, in a temple in the Sightless Pit. It has a collection of books that would make the Librarian of the College of Winterhold envious, but I was on a different mission, and did not have time to inspect it. Perhaps the Odmer I restored will know - their priest said the library held much from the Times Before._

 _That would be welcome to Fusmulgar and particularly Farengar, who have begun the very large project of re-recording such books. What of our own writings survived vodov destruction have mostly succumbed to Kynareth's forces of rain and wind. Fortunately, we depend more on memories than objects_.

They continued chatting until the Throne Room festivities ended, and everyone moved into the Tower's huge banquet room for supper. That was somewhat better, since lunch had worn off long since, but Yssha was still glad when approaching dusk freed her to excuse herself and her team for the flight home.

On the way to the Arena, Grams interrupted her for a hug. "You're getting better at that, youngster - I'm proud of you."

"There is no need," Yssha replied with a grin. "I spent the time in a very interesting tinvaak with Lokmoroyol. I paid just enough attention to the festivities to _seem_ attentive."

Grams chuckled. "That's cheating, youngster. But then, I'm the one who taught you to cheat, so I still say I'm proud of you. Well done."

* * *

Her team had saved enough from what they'd been served at the banquet - Yssha couldn't believe the size of the portions - that they had a smaller-scale banquet at Lakeview for Ahkrinbo's team and her staff. Freyr was a bit dubious about parts of it, especially some of the more elaborate dishes, but there was enough he recognized that he was soon full, and wanted to go to bed. Nevan and Serana told Rayya they'd take care of it, having eaten already.

* * *

Imperial City:

The next morning, the Emperor sent for his most trusted Ambassador-at-Large, Tharia Quiino, and smiled when she entered his office and bowed.

"You asked for me, Your Majesty?"

"Ah, Tharia, yes." He gestured her to the chair beside his desk. "Please, take a seat."

He knew she preferred to stand, but for a request rather than an order, he preferred his people to sit, which she knew as well after years in his service. "You were at yesterday's ceremony, I assume?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Tharia smiled. "It's good to have Hammerfell as part of the Empire again. Their ports, fleets, and soldiers are a tremendous asset, not to mention the trade."

"And we have Elsweyr back, as well, thanks to the Champion of Cyrodiil. The Thalmor provinces of Summerset Isles and Valenwood are going to require force to retake, which Prince Gaius is preparing for and will lead. Morrowind is essentially destroyed thanks to the Red Mountain."

Tharia nodded, already knowing where this conversation was going. "Yes, and that leaves us with only Black Marsh remaining neutral. I take it this is where I come in?"

"If you're willing, yes," the Emperor replied. "Ever since the Oblivion Crisis, Black Marsh - or I should say Argonia - has remained neutral, and we know close to nothing about what's happening beyond our border with them."

"So Your Majesty wants me to find out."

"Yes, and if possible, more than that." He studied her carefully. "But it's a dangerous place, Tharia, and I will not force you to go. Still, the information is vital, and - if you can somehow arrange it - a mutual defense alliance would be invaluable."

"You want an Argonian army for when we invade the Thalmor," Tharia said flatly.

"If you could manage it, yes."

Tharia didn't bother hiding a sigh. "Your Majesty is ... perhaps too optimistic. The Argonians required no help during the Oblivion Crisis, and have only been successfully invaded by Tiber Septim with Numidium. They would gain little or no benefit from a mutual defense alliance. But since it is Your Majesty's wish, I shall try. I can be ready to travel in two days."

"Just do your best, Tharia. That's all I can ask."

* * *

Author's Note: Tharia is Cyclone Sword's character, used with permission.


	27. Argonia

Chapter 27 - Argonia

Stalks-the-Storm was bored, and had been for most of a year. That was when the last of the Argonian tribes had joined the Hist Alliance he'd begun after sap-induced visions. Others having such visions had turned to him because of his descent from the last of the An-Xileel, who were credited with ending the Oblivion Crisis in what was then called Black Marsh.

His visions continued, as the Hist kept him supplied with its sap. But they changed, with the completion of the Alliance. Now the Hist fed him that strange language called Common, or perhaps Cyrodiilic, with its peculiar words and concepts. It took him most of that year to become familiar enough with it to satisfy the Hist, and the visions changed again. Now they showed him a woman in a rich gown, sitting in front of a tent with a white flag flying above it. There was an Argonian nearby, and men in kilted armor he recognized from history as Imperial Legionnaires.

The vision identified the woman as an Imperial Ambassador he was destined to meet, and the Argonian as her interpreter, who would prove unnecessary. And the time had come to meet with her.

* * *

Tharia sighed, rubbing her eyes as she woke in her tent. She and the Legion troopers assigned to escort her had arrived at the Argonian border with Cyrodiil early the previous afternoon, setting up camp fifty yards or so inside Cyrodiil, and putting up a parley flag. Hopefully, it wouldn't take too long for someone across the border to notice, and she could get this useless trip over with.

She rose and dressed, not in a particularly good mood. She wasn't that fond of traveling to begin with, even on a mission likely to be successful, and her pessimism about this one remained strong. She had to admit that, given their ignorance of current events in Argonia, she could be wrong, but their most recent information certainly wasn't promising.

It was about an hour after lunch when one of the Legionnaires alerted Tharia that a party of Argonians was approaching. She rose, putting down her book, and bowed to the one who approached her. "Greetings. I am Tharia Quiino, Ambassador-at-Large to the government of Argonia. May I ask who I have the honor of addressing?"

His tail twitching in amusement at Imperial formality, Stalks-the-Storm returned her bow, "You may, Ambassador. I'm Stalks-the-Storm, called the Uniter of Tribes."

Only long diplomatic training let Tharia hide her astonishment at that title, and at the Argonian's fluency in the common Cyrodiilic tongue. "Then I may negotiate with you?" She shook her head as her interpreter approached; this Stalks-the-Storm was more fluent than the interpreter!

"You may indeed." Stalks-the-Storm braced himself on his tail, and leaned back. "I'm not exactly a king, as I understand that term, but I have ... hmm. Roughly equivalent powers. What degree of authority do you carry from your Emperor?"

"Plenipotentiary, from Emperor and Stormcrown both," Tharia replied. She was sure that was accurate, since the Stormcrown was a warrior, and left diplomacy to the Emperor.

"Stormcrown?" the Argonian asked curiously. This was something the visions hadn't shown him! "We are somewhat isolated in Argonia, so what is a Stormcrown?"

How to explain? Tharia wondered. "Are you familiar with the tales of the Dragonborn, and this one's defeat of the World-Eater?"

Stalks-the-Storm nodded, slowly. "The Hist granted me a vision of the latter. A Khajiit who, with some assistance, defeated a black dragon in the Afterworld."

"Then you know the Stormcrown. That is one of her many titles. Dragonborn, Stormcrown, Ysmir, Dragon of the North, Dovahjud ... Dragon Queen - she is of equal status with His Majesty. Greater, to the dov - the dragons."

"We see few dragons in Argonia," Stalks-the-Storm said. "They are not fond of swamps, it would seem."

Tharia smiled. "No - they are creatures of the cold and mountains, by preference."

"Which we prefer to avoid, in favor of the pleasant warmth and wet of our swamps." He returned her smile. "So, Madame Ambassador, what does your sovereign wish of us?"

Tharia hid a sigh. It was so hard to deal with these straightforward types! They wanted everything in plain language, without the polite circumlocutions that made diplomacy interesting, and were a part of her ... "Ah, I will need to tell you a bit about our circumstances first, if I may?"

He nodded politely. "Go ahead."

She gave him a brief overview of the Empire's history since the Great War, with more detail after the Dragonborn appeared in Skyrim. She dwelled a bit on the end of the White Gold Concordat, which seemed to hold his attention, before she got to the point. "His Majesty wishes an alliance, hopefully including a mutual defense treaty, if you are willing."

Stalks-the-Storm considered, then rose fully to his feet. "I would speak to this Dragonborn, first. Can that be arranged?"

"It can." Tharia looked at her squad leader. "Raise the dragon flag."

"Yes, Ambassador." He went to the flagpole, exchanging the white parley flag for a red dragon-call.

While they waited for a response, Tharia gestured to the largest tent in the camp. "If you or your people would like rest or refreshments, that's the mess tent. Those of my escort not on duty spend most of their free time there."

"I think I would rather wait, but my people might like some refreshments, yes. Thank you".

This area, so close to Argonia, was out of the normal patrol zones, so it was almost an hour before a dragon responded, landing. The team-leader dismounted and approached. "You need assistance, Ambassador?"

"If you will. I am speaking to the Argonian Uniter of Tribes, and he wants to speak to the Dragonborn before negotiations may proceed."

"We will inform her." He mounted again, and the dragon took off.

Stalks-the-Storm shook his head. "A dragon, permitting humans to ride it? That isn't what our histories would lead us to expect."

"That's something else we owe to the Dragonborn," Tharia said. "One of them, Odahviing, swore fealty to her immediately after she defeated Alduin, and others soon began following suit. As that happened, their nature began to change, and shortly after that, she recruited former Stormcloaks to work with the dragons as her Skyguard. They aren't part of the Legion, but Skyguard and Legion often work together very closely."

Stalks-the-Storm turned to her squad leader. "Your name, please?"

The Legionnaire bowed. "Kjarik of Dragon Bridge, my Lord."

"And how does the Legion feel about this Skyguard competition?"

"Not competition, sir," Kjarik corrected. "Anyone who's been in combat with them even once will sing their praises to Sovngarde itself. They're the quick-reaction force, close air support, fast reinforcements - they can do things we can't, and vice versa. I owe my life to a dragon team finding and flaming a Thalmor ambush, in fact, and I'd rather not go into combat without Skyguard support."

The conversation continued until Stalks-the-Storm spotted several dragons approaching, and pointed. "Would that be your Dragonborn?"

It was a formation of five, the central one red, and Tharia nodded. "Yes. She's riding the red one in the middle."

The other four peeled off as that one came in for a landing and his riders dismounted. Stalks-the-Storm approached them, bowing to the Khajiit, and introduced himself , then said, "You would be Dragonborn the Stormcrown?"

Yssha returned the bow. "I am. What may I do for you, Uniter of Tribes? An astonishing accomplishment, by the way - congratulations."

"Ambassador Tharia Quiino says you and your co-ruler wish a mutual defense alliance with Argonia. Is that so?"

Yssha's reply was careful. "Such an alliance deals more with land and water than with sky and air, so it is more the Emperor's field than mine. But I have been commanded by the Divine Talos to restore his Empire to its previous glory, so yes, such an alliance would be welcome."

"And what would Argonia receive in return?"

"There is very little we can offer you," Yssha admitted. "Trade, of course, but Argonia is quite capable of defending itself, even from Mehrunes Dagon, as your people proved during the Oblivion Crisis. That is something my greats-grandmother is grateful for, you should know. It saved her from having to enter and close many more Oblivion Gates before Dagon was finally vanquished."

"Your greats-grandmother is the one who brought those incursions to an end?" Stalks-the-Storm asked. "That is interesting. Here, it was the An-Xileel, or so we thought."

"In Argonia, it probably was," Yssha said. "She thought it curious that she never had to close any Argonian Gates. But yes, she brought about the final confrontation where Dagon fought and was defeated by the last Septim Emperor, Martin, who became an avatar of Akatosh to insure Oblivion could never again invade Mundus."

"Ah," Stalks-the-Storm said thoughtfully. "So my ancestors the An-Xileel ended the incursions here, but it was the Emperor himself, with your ancestress' aid, who ended them permanently, everywhere. Is that correct?"

Yssha nodded. "It is."

"Then Argonia owes the Empire a debt it was unaware of until now. A debt that must be repaid." Stalks-the-Storm turned to Tharia. "Were you aware of those facts, Ambassador?"

"Of course," Tharia replied. "Every schoolchild knows them, and those of us who live in Imperial City are reminded every time we pass the dragon statue in what remains of the Temple of the One." She paused. "But I'm not sure I would have thought to mention it."

"Why would either of us?" Stalks-the-Storm replied. "It's distant history, with no obvious connection to current affairs until the Stormcrown mentioned her ancestress. It's a good thing I chose to speak to her."

"It is indeed," Tharia agreed. Until then, she'd been certain she'd be going home a failure, and she said a quick, silent prayer of thanks to the Nine, especially Talos. He'd commanded the restoration of his Empire, after all, and she wouldn't be surprised if he'd 'nudged' the Argonian ruler just a tiny bit. "Does this mean we will have an alliance?"

Stalks-the-Storm nodded, then grinned. "And so Stormcrown may obey her Divine Talos' command, Argonia will again assume its place as a nominal part of the Empire, as long as we're mostly left to our own devices."

Tharia smiled. "As you were most of the time anyway, since Argonia's climate and terrain don't lend themselves to most conventional Imperial practices. Yes, agreeing to that is well within my powers as Ambassador." And well beyond ever her most far-fetched hopes for this mission!

"I almost find myself looking forward to some action against the Thalmor," Stalks-the-Storm said. "Since the Hist Alliance was completed, I've missed a challenge. How will we communicate, though?"

"That is one of the Skyguard's functions," Yssha said. "One moment, and I will call their commanders." She moved away, far enough to provide landing space, then Shouted, "Dovgrahaak!"

He must have had to wait for his riders, because it was several minutes before he arrived. "Geh, thuri?"

Yssha introduced Stalks-the-Storms by name and title, then smiled at her commanders. "Argonia is again a province of the Empire, and as its ruler, he needs a dragon team. Who do we have that would be suitable?"

Franken frowned, then looked at Dovgrahaak. "We don't have many Argonian riders yet, and they're the only ones who'd tolerate the climate and conditions well. So Nosnumul and Rides-the-Wind, or Daandual and On-Wazei?

Dovgrahaak considered for a moment before deciding. "Daandual and On-Wazei, I think. They are the senior team."

"Very well. If you'll call them, please, we'll let them know."

* * *

Tharia enjoyed the return trip to the Imperial City much more than she'd enjoyed the trip out, and when she was escorted into the Emperor's office, she was smiling.

The Emperor waved her to the chair she'd used before, and this time she wasn't reluctant. "I gather you have good news for me, Tharia."

"Better than I think even you hoped, sire. Argonia has the equivalent of a king, now, named Stalks-the-Storm and titled Uniter of Tribes. He insisted on speaking to the Dragonborn before he would decide, which turned out to be a blessing of the Divines. They discussed the end of the Oblivion Crisis, and he decided Argonia owed the Empire a debt ... I think for Emperor Martin's sacrifice, though he wasn't specific. Even better, the alliance he agreed to includes Argonia back in the Empire as long as we don't interfere in their internal affairs."

"You agreed, I assume."

"Yes, sire. And the Skyguard leaders assigned him a dragon team so you can coordinate the invasion with him. Daandual and On-Wazei."

"Excellent!" the Emperor exclaimed. "Better than I'd dared hope, indeed!"


	28. Serana's Wedding

Chapter 28 - Serana's Wedding

The big day was finally here, and Yssha smiled as she got dressed. She'd worn armor to her own wedding, but for Serana and Nevan's, she'd decided on a dress, despite the memories of what had happened last time she'd done so. But this was Helgen, and she knew everyone who'd been invited, so there shouldn't be any trouble.

She left the Palace proper to make a final check of the preparations in the pavilion before the guests began arriving. Not that she thought anything had gotten damaged or disarranged, but she wanted this day to be perfect for the pair. Brother Erandur was fussing over the altar with its Shrine of Mara that had been set up in front of her throne, so she left him to it once she saw the flowers still looked fresh. The chairs that would serve as pews didn't all match, but they were clean and new, nothing to be ashamed of - if anyone even paid attention to something as minor as chairs!

Satisfied that everything was ready for the ceremony itself, she went back inside, to the formal dining room and ballroom, where the partitions that usually separated them had been removed. Lydia and Rayya were supervising the servants who were preparing for the post-wedding banquet buffet, and Lydia grinned at her. "Don't fret, my Jarl - everything's going as smoothly as can be hoped for an event this big. Rayya coming in for the day from Lakeview Manor has been a big help, and Argis has been working with Hadvar on security."

Anything else she might have been going to say was interrupted by the sound of a dragon landing, so Yssha hurried back outside, this time to the plaza in front of the pavilion. It was Fusmulgar, with King Balgruuf and Farengar. Yssha bowed, smiling. "Welcome to Skyhold and Helgen, my King."

He returned both bow and greeting, then looked around. "You've done well here, Jarl Ysmir. I see I chose well, giving you Helgen to rebuild. And was that a mercenary compound I saw on the way in?"

"Yes - I investigated, and found their captain's claims of a good reputation were truthful, so it is now the winter quarters and permanent home of Tornalf's Terrors."

Balgruuf grinned, and even Farengar looked impressed. "The Skyguard, a Legion fort, and now the Terrors? Skyhold is probably the most secure hold in Skyrim - which is good."

"I and my people think so," Yssha agreed. "Keep a close watch on us, my King. Since I have welcomed Khajiit and Argonians, our trade is growing, as well."

"Oh, I am," Balgruuf assured her. "What would you say if I told you that your example tempts me to open Whiterun to the Khajiit caravans?"

"I would encourage you to do so," she replied promptly. "They have their faults, of course, but no more or worse than Nord ones, although different."

"Lend me a couple of your Hold guards, to teach mine about that, and it'll be done. But now ... " he gestured toward the throne on the far side of the altar. "Has that magnificent creation been named?"

"Named?" Yssha was puzzled. "No, why?"

"Because unique things should be named. You carry a named sword, don't you? And the Ruby Throne is less impressive than ... that."

"True." Yssha though for a moment, several possibilities going through her mind. It was made of dragonbone. It had wings. But neither seemed right to her, so she decided to consult one of her soul-sibs. _May I, my vahriin?_

 _One's thur need not ask, but ... I would be most honored._

"Then I name it for the one who revealed me as Dragonborn, and offered his bones to form it. It is the Mirmulnir Throne." With that, she felt a cheer from her entire internal population, and couldn't help smiling, even though part of her was blinking back tears.

Balgruuf looked at her quizzically, then smiled. "It is most fitting, Ysmir. It's unusual to name something deserving a name for an enemy, but in this case ... yes."

"He is no longer an enemy, you know," Yssha pointed out. "He is part of me, a trusted friend and advisor."

Balgruuf nodded, but before he could say anything else, another dragon landed, this one carrying Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone. Yssha spoke to her briefly, then had to circulate as more guests began arriving. All the Jarls except Siddgeir arrived by dragon; he walked in, through the gate nearest Shadr's new stable. He looked around, then gave her a look of dislike. She made a mental note to ask Balgruuf if he knew what the problem was, then returned to her hostess duties.

Valerica flew in with Elisif, which made Yssha smile. Elisif seemed to attract vampires, like her court wizard, Sybille Stentor, and it certainly looked like Elisif and Valerica had become friends. Valerica waved, and Yssha joined them. "I am glad you were able to make it, fahdoni."

Valerica nodded, smiling. "This certainly isn't something I would have believed possible when we first met, back in the Soul Cairn, where I accused you of planning to harm Serana, and scoffed at the idea of killing Harkon."

"Nor would I," Yssha said. "There have been a number of surprises since that time, for everyone."

"There certainly have!" Valerica exclaimed. "But if you'll excuse me, I'd like to see my daughter."

"Of course. She is inside; just ask my housecarl Argis the Bulwark, and he will show you where she is. Oh, and if you would be so kind, ask him to bring Dragonbane when he comes outside for the ceremony, I would appreciate it."

"Certainly," Valerica agreed. "I'll see you then."

A few minutes later, Argis joined her, Dragonbane at his belt beside his own blade. He started to offer it to her, but she shook her head. "After the ceremony, please."

"Yes, my Jarl."

Eventually, everyone was settled in the improvised pews, and she took her own place on her newly-named throne, guiding her tail through the slot Marcurio had formed for it, which was much more comfortable. Erandur nodded to Argis, and he went inside briefly to tell the wedding party everything was ready.

Moments later, they were standing in front of the priest. Yssha was pleased with how impressive they looked, Serana resplendent in a gold brocade gown with a ruby necklace and earrings, a wreath of red mountain flowers around her waist, and Nevan straight as an arrow in his dress blues. Valerica stood beside her daughter and Marcurio beside Nevan.

Erandur began the cenemony. "It was Mara Who first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children. It is from her love of us that we first learned to love one another. It is from this love that we learn that a life lived alone is no life at all. We gather here today, under Mara's loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship." His attention went to Nevan. "Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?"

The Sandeman replied with certainty. "I do. Now and forever."

Erandur turned his attention to Serana. "Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?"

Serana smiled at her lover. "I do. Now and forever."

Erandur smiled at both of them, then continued. "Under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed. I present to the two of you these matching rings, blessed by Mara's Divine Grace. May they protect each of you in your new life together."

The newlyweds kissed, and the ceremony was over. Yssha took advantage of her hostess status to be the first to congratulate them before they were surrounded by well-wishers.

Then she turned to Argis. "Now, please."

He handed her Dragonbane and she stretched, to put it in Mirmulnir's open jaws. "Divines, please grant that I never again have to use Dragonrend or slay another of my winged kin."

She was startled to hear Balgruuf behind her. "May They grant that it be so."

She turned to face him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. After getting to know Fusmulgar, I don't like the thought of destroying them, unless it becomes absolutely necessary." He grinned. "Did you see the look on Siddgeir's face when he saw what you've done with Helgen?"

"Yes, he seemed displeased with it, or with me, I am not sure. I also noticed he was the only one who did not fly in. Would you know why that was?

"He wants it back - says he gave it to you first, so he should be getting the tax revenues rather than 'that damn commoner you gave my city to, then jumped up to Jarl.' I had to remind him that he forfeited it to the crown when he failed to even attempt to rebuild or help his people as he was obliged to. As for why he didn't fly in, when I asked Commander Franken why Falkreath had no dragon team, he said no dovah was willing to associate himself with 'that vobahlaan gogil wo mindok okmaar bronjun.' And that letting him ride one of them was not to be discussed."

Yssha winced. "Ouch!" She didn't like Siddgeir, granted, but she wouldn't have used that kind of language about him. Still, "worthless goblin who thinks himself a Jarl" left no doubt how the dov felt about him. They had strong opinions about proper behavior toward ones they had authority over, though between Alduin's corruption and his defeat, those had often been violated. "I ... see. And he may blame me for that as well, even though this is the first I have heard about it."

Balgruuf shrugged. "He may, but I doubt he'd be foolish enough to act on his dislike, all things considered. If he does, I have no doubt you and your people can protect yourselves."

"We can and will, my King, but I hope you are correct and we will not have to." She smiled, changing the subject. "But I am being remiss in my duties as hostess - the celebration is continuing inside, and so far you have seen only the pavilion. Lydia and Rayya will be conducting tours of the public areas, or I will gladly show you around myself."

"Don't bother - I'll join one of the tours. It may give me an idea for a house-warming - or in this case, palace-warming - gift." He glanced at the Mirmulnir Throne. "Such as a cushion for that, in whatever color he was."

"He was bronze," Yssha replied. "And a cushion would be welcome, though it is already more comfortable than it was for the recognition ceremony - Adrianne forgot to allow an opening for my tail."

Balgruuf laughed at that. "It's because people think of you as Dragonborn, not a Khajiit."

* * *

The next morning, Yssha was back in her armor, consulting with Marcurio over their to-do list. It was just the two of them for the next couple of weeks, since Grams had offered to take Nevan and Serana on a tour of Cyrodiil, which they'd accepted happily. Nevan had called it a 'honeymoon', a custom of his people for newlyweds. Apparently he hadn't known Skyrim had the same custom.

"Any preferences?" Marcurio asked.

"Not really," Yssha said. "But this list keeps getting longer and longer, so I think we should start with the oldest and work our way forward. That, I think, is collecting Barenziah's crown, since we have all the gems for it. If I recall, Vex said it was in Tolvald's Cave, which is inhabited by Falmer, so we can accomplish two objectives at once."

"That sounds good," Marcurio agreed. "Let's go."


	29. Retrieving the Crown

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Chapter 29 - Retrieving the Crown

Tolvald's Cave was nothing special on the outside, and Yssha was expecting pretty much the same inside, except for it being only the two of them this time. It surprised her when Marcurio sopped perhaps ten feet inside the entrance and said, "I've got a very bad feeling about this."

She turned to him, frowning. "Is it anything specific, or just general unease?"

"Not exactly either," he said slowly. "This is supposed to be a fairly routine retrieval and Falmer-restoration mission, but as soon as we walked in, it felt like a giant trap. Not Thalmor, though ... more of a Daedric feel, like around Mephala and Mehrunes Dagon."

"We shall have to be particularly careful, then." If there was Daedric influence here, it was most unfortunate that Nevan and Serana were away in Cyrodiil. "Do you wish to leave, and come back later?"

Marcurio shook his head. "I'm not sure we'd be allowed to. But I suppose we can try."

That statement seemed to trigger a landslide behind them, and the cave entrance filled with rocks and dirt.

"It seems you were right, beloved," Yssha said. "So we go on, and hope for another way out. I could teleport us home, normally, but if something powerful enough to cause a landslide on cue is involved, I would probably be blocked. And we have our missions to accomplish, anyway."

"Probably," Marcurio agreed. "Let's go, then."

More cautiously than usual, they moved deeper into the cave. Not surprisingly, the first thing they ran into was a bear who was using the cave as a den, which was no problem. When that was dead, Yssha noticed an abandoned camp with a journal on one of the bedrolls.

"After trailing the beasts for several days, I think we've finally found their lair. It seems like their den is further in this cave. There may be more of them than we first thought, but after seeing the strange columns and pipes, there may be some sort of ruin here.

"My Gran always said those places were full of treasures just waiting for the first person to find them. We've decided to make camp and try to clear out the animals and see if there is anything worth taking."

"'Strange columns and pipes' sounds like a Dwemer ruin," Marcurio commented. "Not that it's all that unusual to have Dwemer ruins and Falmer together."

They made their way deeper into the cave, dodging bear traps - one holding a dead bear - and bone chimes, then Yssha spotted a couple of ore veins, one iron and a silver. She ignored the iron, but mined the silver.

Further on, they came to an ornate iron door, which she unlocked, then disarmed a trapped chest. Falmer passages led them up to a higher chamber, where they found an alchemy lab ... and three badly-mangled Falmer bodies. After checking them out, Marcurio said, "Looks like vampires - and those do _not_ belong with Falmer, or in Dwemer ruins."

Yssha nodded. "Vampires, and you sense a Daedric taint to this place ... something to do with Molag Bal, then, would be my guess."

"That seems likeliest, yeah. Too bad Meridia gave Dawnbreaker to Serana; it'd come in very handy right now."

"That is true. On the other hand, we both know the Stendarr's Aura and Vampire Bane spells, thanks to Florentius."

"And we'll probably need them. In the meantime, I'd feel more comfortable sneaking."

"As you wish." Yssha had long ago learned to pay attention to Marcurio's instincts, so she promptly went into stealth mode, following his lead, and they kept going.

The next chamber was quite a bit larger, with several more mangled Falmer, and a few vampire remains as well. As they made their way through it, Yssha heard some moans, and followed the sound to find a female Falmer and a young boy, badly injured but still aware. She couldn't comfort them in their unRestored form, but she could ease their pain. Speaking just loudly enough for them to hear, she focused her intent into a very soft Shout. "Sot ... Gein Daal!"

When they lost consciousness, she dug into her pack for two of her strongest healing potions, starting to just leave them, then she changed her mind, and crouched down to wait.

"What - " Marcurio murmured.

"I do not know if they know what healing potions are. We can afford the few minutes until they wake."

He looked dubious, but didn't argue. Five minutes later, the Restoration was complete, and the two, now Odmer, began to wake. As soon as their eyes started to open, she murmured, "Remain silent, and drink these." She handed them the potions, pleased when they obeyed without hesitation.

"So this is what the shaman meant," the woman whispered. "What now, Favored of Auri-El?"

"Go to the entrance of the cave - it is currently blocked - and hide somewhere nearby. We will be back for you, and get you to safety."

Silently, the two obeyed while Yssha and Marcurio went deeper into the cave. They encountered a giant frostbite spider at a narrow part of the chamber, then it widened out again, and they saw an encounter between a dozen Falmer and half that many Vampire Lords. Yssha promptly un-stealthed and cast Stendarr's Aura, then waded into battle, her mace swinging.

Marcurio followed suit, his battleaxe doing nearly as much damage as the Aura. With the two of them in action, the vampires were soon truly dead, but not before one snarled at Yssha. "You'll not leave here, Dragonborn - except as Molag Bal's!"

When the fight was over, Yssha used the Restore Falmer Shout on the eight who survived, handing out more healing potions and giving them the same instructions she'd given the first two, but one of them balked. "I am the priest, Dovahkiin. I have been instructed to help and protect you, so I must go along. What do you seek?"

"We came here seeking the Crown of Barenziah," Yssha replied, "and to restore your folk to their true heritage. Now it seems we must also defeat more of Clan Volkihar's vampires. And avoid Molag Bal claiming me, though I am sure Bormah Akatosh would have something to say about that."

The Odmer laughed. "I'm sure he would, Favored. But we do not have a library here - would you have a name I may use?"

Yssha thought for a bit. "I do not know Odmer names, but I believe Altmer ones are close. However, the only ones I am familiar with are currently in use, or belong to dead Thalmor, and may have negative associations in the outside world."

The Odmer priest smiled. "Perhaps I can rehabilitate one of those."

Yssha returned the smile. "Perhaps you can. Then I offer you the name Ancano. It definitely needs rehabilitation."

"I am Ancano, in that case, and will do my best. It should be a pleasant name, from the sound."

"Very well, Ancano. Are you ready?"

"I am. Follow me."

They did so, discovering that an escorted trip got them quite a bit more treasure than bumbling around on their own - and also got them much better vantage points to attack their enemies.

With Ancano's guidance, it took less time than she'd expected to get to the chamber where he said Barenziah's Crown was, even though they had to pause a few times to fight vampires. and when they got to the final chamber, he cautioned them about some ghosts.

They found some skeletons first, one with a faded diary near telling of its owner's brother being killed by the eruption of Red Mountain and the survivor fleeing to Skyrim. The other had a fragmentary journal, which mentioned a white elf, and then being held prisoner by a group of them. A third skeleton, this one crushed, had a Staff of Firebolts, which she gave to Marcurio.

Then Ancano pointed out a heap of rubble, and Yssha saw a gleam of gold. Before she got to it, though, three ghosts in Elven armor appeared, attacking. Ancano used wards to defend himself while Yssha and Marcurio defeated the ghosts, then she sent the Odmer to join his friends at the entrance while she went to retrieve the crown.

she'd barely touched it when half a dozen vampires came out of concealment and attacked. One of them was wielding a green-glowing mace, and came right at her. "Molag Bal wants your soul, cat, and his mace will take it!"

Yssha cast Stendarr's Aura, then used her own dragonbone mace to defend herself from the Daedric weapon. The vampire was strong, and she was tired from their earlier fights, so it took longer than usual, and she was pretty sure she had a number of bruises and cuts, despite her armor. Between Stendarr's Aura and her mace, though, she finally managed to take it down, then help Marcurio with the rest.

She was panting and had to heal herself when it was over, and Marcurio was in no better shape. "I think we have spoiled ourselves, beloved," she said when she'd caught her breath. "That would have gone much better with the full team."

"Yeah, it sure would've," he agreed. "It's not bad to know the two of us can still handle ourselves against bad odds, but it's sobering to find out just how much harder it is at half strength."

Yssha nodded, then picked up the Crown and put it in her pack, then stared down at the glowing mace. "I think that is one of the artifacts Nirn would be better off without."

Talos appeared, smiling. "So be it, briinah." He picked up the mace. "You don't have to worry about any of the Daedric Princes claiming you, you know. Even Hermaeus Mora, despite what he told you in Apocrypha, can have no claim on you, as his champion or anything else."

"I thought not, but it is good to be certain. Thank you, zeymah."

He chuckled. "My pleasure. Now, what're you planning to do with Barenziah's coronation crown?"

"I am supposed to return it to Vex, who will restore it to its original condition, and it will act as a paragon for the Thieves Guild."

Talos laughed. "That sounds appropriate. She was a very good queen, but she was also a very good thief, and that part still runs in the family. I don't think she was ever a Nightingale herself, but her daughter Dralsi was, and her granddaughter Karliah still is."

Yssha was startled, and showed it. "Karliah? Barenziah's granddaughter?"

"Oh, yes indeed! She never told you?"

Yssha shook her head. "The subject never came up."

"If I may, sir," Marcurio said, "can you tell us if there's a back way out of here?"

"I'm afraid there isn't," Talos replied. "You'll have to go on for a bit, to restore the rest of the Falmer deeper in, then find the exit to the first part of the cave. The atronach Bal sent to start the landslide is long since gone, and Bal's been, ah, rebuked for his interference with Bormahu's restoration project."

Yssha chuckle-purred. "That part I do regret, but his vampires did not keep us from the Crown, and he loses his mace in the bargain."

"Since Bal interfered by trapping you here, I'm untrapping you." Talos paused for a second. "There, the landslide is gone, so you can finish up here." He vanished with the mace.

"Shall we continue as we were told, beloved?" Yssha asked with a grin.

"Of course, now that we have a way to get back out."

Since she'd sent Ancano to the entrance, they were back to exploring their way along, over a grating past a waterfall into a large cavern with a Falmer village. There were no mangled bodies here, so the vampires hadn't come this far, which was a relief. When the Falmer began their attack, she Shouted at them, with the usual results.

The rest of the trip, except for a couple of chaurus encounters and three more Restore Falmer Shouts, was uneventful, and an hour or so later, they were back at the now-cleared entrance. She told Ancano about Winterhold, the Sightless Pit library, and Helgen, then called Odahviing for the trip to Riften.

* * *

She grimaced at the smell as they entered the Cistern, but did her best to ignore it until her olfactory nerves got deadened temporarily, making her way to the Ragged Flagon and Vex.

She handed over the Crown, then said, "You called this a paragon, but I do not understand completely. Just what is a paragon, and what does it do?"

"A paragon's an object that enhances our thieving abilities." Vex shrugged. "At least, that's what I'm told it does ... there hasn't been a paragon in this Guild for hundreds of years. I guess we'll all find out together, as soon as I get this thing put back together."

Yssha chuckled, nodding. "All right, then get to work!"

"Of course, Boss - then I'll take care of a couple of jobs to check it out." Vex grinned. "More coin is one of my favorite things, you know."

Yssha chuckled again, then went to borrow Anskar Ember-Master's workbench and grindstone, after buying supplies from Syndus, Vanryth, and Anskar himself. As long as she was here anyway, she might as well take advantage of the fence and merchants, which if she wanted the best prices, meant doing repairs and improvements to weapons and armor first.

She didn't rush, taking the time to do a good job, but once her business was done, she and Marcurio wasted no time getting into the fresh air, then home to wash the smell out of clothes and fur.


	30. The Pale Lady

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Chapter 30 - The Pale Lady

Marcurio pointed to an item on their to-do list. "This one dates back to when we found that Forbidden Legends book, it and the next two. Number Three, though, sounds like it ought to wait till Nevan and Serana get back - that Jyrik Gauldurson was tough, and his brothers aren't likely to be any better."

"A good point," Yssha agreed. "After the difficulties in recovering Barenziah's Crown, I would prefer not to go into something we know will be quite difficult while the team is at half strength. Do our notes have any clues where to find this Pale Lady?"

"Not in the book itself, no. All that says is 'For generations, the people of Morthal have told whispered tales of the Pale Lady, a ghostly woman who wanders the northern marshes, forever seeking her lost daughter. Some say she steals children who wander astray, others that her sobbing wail strikes dead all those who hear it. But behind these tales may lie a kernel of truth, for ancient records speak of 'Aumriel', a mysterious figure Ysgramor's heirs battled for decades, and finally sealed away.' But I think we have something elsewhere ... "

He leafed through the notebook, then nodded. "Here, though I can't remember where we heard it. Frostmere Crypt."

"Let us go, then. A crypt usually means draugr, and sometimes bandits; we can hope this one is conventional in that respect."

* * *

When they got there, Odahviing landed and let them off a couple of hundred yards away, since there was a fight in progress on the stairs leading to the crypt door. Yssha and Marcurio approached on foot, to find a pair of males - bandits, from their gear - fighting a third, female, bandit. They stayed back and watched from concealment. They had no idea what this was about, or who - if anyone - was in the right.

The woman fell to her opponents, and the men started to loot the body. Yssha and Marcurio let themselves be seen, since they weren't about to let bandits heal themselves just to have to fight them later. One of the bandits yelled, "You picked a bad time to get lost, cat," and both of them charged. Her flame spell took one down, Marcurio's lightning bolt the other, and they did some looting of their own. The woman had a journal, which Yssha read.

"Left the White River gang this morning, with Hajvarr's thugs on our tail. Wasn't a bad gig, but it was time to move on. Ra'jirr and I weren't getting anywhere with him in charge.

"I'll never understand how he does it. I couldn't find so much as a rumor in Windhelm, while Ra'jirr stayed outside the city, got wasted on moonsugar, and still managed to find us a lead - some gang out Morthal way. They're holed up in an old ruin, digging it out in between raids on the caravans.

"Joined up with Kyr's band. Their treasure-hunting dig is a disaster: three months of work have barely cleared a single hall, and six men have died from the cave-ins. I've taken charge of the dig, while Ra'jirr is leading the raids topside. Maybe that year in Cidhna Mine will pay off after all.

"You'd think a man who could swing a sword could use a pickaxe, but these louts are exhausted after barely an hour. No wonder this tunnel's taking forever. I've set up round-the-clock shifts, and ordered double rations for the best diggers. That'll give them some incentive.

"Night shift woke me to say they'd hit something big. Kyr, Ra'jirr, and I went down to take a look. It's huge, like a whole forest was just swallowed up by the earth, with a big old monument out in the center. Kyr took the sword from it as a trophy, proof his whole plan was finally paying off. For once, he might be right.

"Ra'jirr's been having nightmares over the past few days. He keeps muttering about a 'Pale Lady'- one of those swamp women who steal children away at night, I think. To think some fool story could turn the toughest bandit I know into a cowering kitten, frightened of his own shadow. I'm just glad none of the others see him like this.

"It's getting worse. Ra'jirr can barely sleep at all now, and whenever he dozes off, he wakes up screaming- woke the whole place last night. He says the 'Pale Lady' is coming for us- she's down in the forest, we have to return the sword or she'll kill us all. Not a chance - the boss clings to that thing like he was born with it. I've told everyone Ra'jirr just has a fever, but this can't go on. I've pulled a few things together. I'll slip out tonight and never look back."

"Well! So the rumored location was right!" Marcurio said. "I had my doubts, but now it seems pretty promising."

"Yes - I wonder who or what this Pale Lady is, if not a moonsugar hallucination. Let us go find out."

Inside, the first thing they found was a table with flagons and an open bottle of wine, perhaps where the two bandits had been. There were also three coin purses, and a brief note.

"Kill Eisa and Ra'jirr on sight. A hundred gold to whoever brings me their heads. Spread the word.

"Kyr"

Another bandit appeared from an open door to their right, and Marcurio took him out before they opened a gate straight ahead and continued, in stealth mode. That let them pick up some more information from bandits who didn't see them until too late.

"Ra'Jirr was always getting her into things."

"But ... stealing the boss's sword? Did he have a death wish?"

"Who knows? The cat was crazy. She was a fool to trust him."

Then there was some random chatter in between confrontations; that, Yssha didn't pay much attention to. Eventually, they came to what looked like a sort of office, with another journal that tied in with the first one.

"Frostmere Crypt, Week 12: What a disaster. We haven't seen a caravan in a week. We actually lost ground in the tunnels- Thal and his team were crushed when their section collapsed. I've heard word of a mutiny. If next week isn't any better...

"Frostmere Crypt, Week 13: Two new recruits- Eisa and Ra'jirr. Girl said she did time in Cidhna Mine, down in Markarth, and it shows- she's got more experience than all of us put together. I've put her in charge of the dig. Cat's good with a blade, so I've sent him topside with the raiders.

"Frostmere Crypt, Week 14: Tunnel's going well. Eisa made our first big find just yesterday - buried chest with a couple hundred gold. Topside, Ra'jirr and his team have hit five merchants this week, in and out faster than the guard could respond. Looks like things are finally going my way.

"Frostmere Crypt, Week 15: The tunnel broke out into some kind of giant cavern. There's a whole forest down there- found a nice sword all laid out on some kind of monument and everything. But this is just strange. Eerie. What is this place? Not like any tomb I've ever seen.

"Frostmere Crypt, Week 16: I think the cat's gone crazy. All of a sudden, he can't focus, keeps muttering to himself. He's gone from our best raider to our worst- botched two jobs just today. Eisa's trying to cover for him, but she's not fooling anyone.

"Lately, he keeps asking to see my sword, begging to borrow it. Like I'll let him get his paws on it- it's beautiful, perfectly balanced, better than any I've ever held. Sure, he can have it- right in the gut."

"Hmm," Yssha said thoughtfully. "A giant cavern with a whole forest ... that reminds me of Ustengrav. Would it be too much to hope this one might have a Word Wall as well?"

Marcurio chuckled. "Too much to hope? Nope. But I wouldn't necessarily expect one."

"I never do, beloved, unless it is Arngeir who has revealed a location."

More useful information came as they crossed a bridge above a room.

"What? There's a whole shift down there."

"Kyr's orders. No one goes in or out till he gets back. Or the boss will skin you as soon as he's done with Ra'jirr."

"Gods, what a mess."

More useless chatter, then some "singing" so bad Yssha winced. Killing that one would be a service to Tamriel, she decided, and was happy to take care of it when they encountered that particular group.

More about Kyr: "The boss went down there?"

"Yeah, he's after Ra'Jirr. Never seen him so angry."

"I've got a bad feeling about this. Something's just felt wrong down there lately. Eerie."

The reply sounded disgusted. "You're sounding as crazy as the cat. Be going on 'bout the Pale Lady next."

"Something's wrong," the other insisted. "Boss's been down there too long."

"Yeah. Let's wait a little while longer. Then ... "

The voice trailed off as Yssha and Marcurio continued. There were more bandits and a few burial urns that yielded nice treasure - better than she'd found before retrieving the Crown of Barenziah and Vex restoring it, so that had definitely been a worthwhile expedition, despite its problems.

A few more bandits, then they arrived at an iron door. As soon as Yssha opened it, they saw a badly wounded bandit slumped on the ground - human, so probably Kyr. He saw them and managed to get out, "Finally ... someone came ... I ... "

He stopped to catch his breath, and cough. "The cat ... Ra'Jirr ... ambushed me. He's ... trying to take ... the sword back. I can't ... " That was all he could manage before he fell back, dead.

Yssha looked around. There was an altar to her left, with a fight going on in front of it, so she headed that way. As she neared, she saw it was a Khajiit and a Wispmother, but before she could get close enough to do anything, the Wispmother had won, and the Khajiit was dead. Searching the body got her the Pale Sword, but then the Wispmother attacked, and she had to defend herself.

Wispmothers weren't exactly easy, but nothing like a pack of vampires, so she and Marcurio were able to take it out with relative ease, and she began looking for the possible Word Wall. Eventually, they found a flight of stairs, and as they climbed, she heard one's characteristic chanting. Following the sound, she found it, and absorbed Nus, Statue - the last Word of the Ice Form Shout. Yes, another one completed, and she smiled. A few more, and she'd have the full current arsenal!

The chest at the Word Wall, like the burial urns, yielded better treasure than usual, mostly in the form of additional gems. She appreciated that, since making jewelry was her second-favorite form of relaxation.

And that reminded her of her plans to have a workshop constructed at her plot of land in the Pale. "Would you mind a stop at Helgen when we leave here?" she asked Marcurio.

"Huh? What brought that on?"

"The greater number of gems we are finding reminded me of smithing, which reminded me of my intention to move that and my alchemy out of Lakeview," she replied. "The Palace is done, so I can switch Ragnar to that project. I just hope he can keep it fairly modest."

Marcurio grinned as they climbed a second set of stairs to a barred iron door. "Just what do you want there?"

She unbarred and opened the door, which took them back to the crypt section of Frostmere, before she answered. "A complete smithy and alchemy lab, plus a place to sleep if I get deep into a project I prefer not to leave. And perhaps an enchanting station, so I do not have to carry smithed items back to Lakeview to enchant them."

"Then we might want to have the porters deliver that kind of material to Proudspire instead of Lakeview, until that's done. It'll cut down on transportation problems."

"A good idea, beloved. We can start with the loot from here."

* * *

After a stop at the Porter Service branch in Solitude to give the necessary orders, they went to Helgen and made arrangements with Ragnar to get started on Windstad Manor. He assured her that he would take care of it, then said, "What about the Heljarchen Hall site?"

Yssha shrugged. "With Lakeview Manor as my residence and Windstad as my workshop, I have no particular need for it. But if you wish to design and build something, make it usable as a base for Clan Ysshaya younglings on their adventuring year, assuming others wish to come to Skyrim."

"It will be done, my Jarl." Ragnar grinned. "Otherwise, I have a free hand with it?"

"Certainly - you are an artist of buildings, so why not?"

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to Dragon Man 180 for becoming a second beta reader.


	31. A Scroll for Anska

.

Chapter 31 - A Scroll for Anska

"A suggestion, love?" Marcurio said, as they were about to start their morning planning session.

"What is it?"

"The Windstad Manor site is close to Ustengrav and High Gate Ruins. We cleared Ustengrav quite a while ago, but High Gate is a complete unknown. I think it'd be a good idea to check it out before Ragnar starts building, just to avoid any surprises."

"That is a good idea," Yssha agreed. "We will do so."

* * *

When they entered the ruin, the first thing they saw was a pair of dead draugr, then a bit further in, a woman in sleeveless, bare-midriff fur armor, with no helmet. She studied the two in dragon armor, then nodded. "You look strong."

Or at least sensible, Yssha thought with amusement. Their armor, unlike hers, provided real protection. "Who are you?"

"I'm Anska. Are you here to help?" She continued before Yshha could ask what she wanted help with. "I've finally located Vokun's crypt! The scroll I'm looking for just has to be here." She paused briefly, looking hopeful. "Maybe you could help find it, I just know it's in here."

"Tell me more about this scroll, if you would."

"It's probably meaningless to you, but according to family legend it links our bloodline back to Ysgramor himself."

"And who or what is Vokun?"

"Some old priest buried here long ago. I've been searching for his tomb for a few years now."

Yssha and Marcurio exchanged glances. An old priest in a crypt where they'd already seen draugr could very well be a Dragon Priest, and undoubtedly far more hostile than Qolaas.

Anska confirmed that when she continued. "If Vokun is as powerful as I think, I may need a little help um ... dealing ...with him."

Yssha sighed. She certainly would! And Vokun would have to be dealt with before Ragnar started construction, so they might as well retrieve Anska's scroll for her at the same time. "What would we get out of this little expedition?"

"You can have anything except the scroll, of course."

"Very well. We will retrieve it for you."

"Great, with the three of us this should be easy."

"Ah, no. Marcurio and I will retrieve it for you. We have faced Dragon Priests before, and I am not reckless enough to take along someone so poorly equipped."

"I can take care of myself! And I want to be there."

Yssha sighed. Was the woman suicidal? "On your head be it, then. But stay behind us."

"Who are you, to be giving me orders?" Anska demanded.

"I am Ysmir, the Dragonborn."

"Oh." Anska's reply was hushed. "Um. All right, then."

"Good. Follow us."

Yssha and Marcurio led the way deeper in, finding a huge room with several draugr. She and Marcurio went into action, and she was surprised when Anska also started casting Destruction spells, mostly Flames. When the draugr were defeated, they continued, finding a two-level room with a trapdoor and levers on pedestals.

Anska mentioned the obvious. "This looks like some sort of lever puzzle. We'll have to figure out the correct order to flip them."

Yssha hid a sigh. Why did everyone they explored a dungeon with think them totally inexperienced? She managed to remain polite, though. "Thank you."

This ruin was Nordic, not Dwemer, so there should be clues nearby. Sure enough, there were symbols above a ledge to the south, and she pulled the corresponding levers, opening the trapdoor. They went down the stairs it revealed, entering some catacombs, and made their way along, killing more draugr. Yssha chuckled when Anska commented, after one fight, "This is fun."

Eventually they came to a soul gem on what looked like a weight-sensitive plate, where Anska said, "That gem looks suspicious to me."

"Then prepare yourself." Yssha picked it up, not too surprised when that woke a pair of nearby draugr, but definitely surprised when Anska beat her to flaming one, and grinned. "Sometimes I just like to see one burn."

"Better than them using Unrelenting Force on you," Yssha agreed.

Eventually, they got to another trap room, where they had to fight two Deathlords, but fortunately, one at a time. A lever in the niche where one of them had been opened an entrance to the east. That revealed a short corridor leading to double doors, which opened as they approached.

Yssha had time to notice a Word Wall, but nothing else, before a sarcophagus exploded and a Dragon Priest emerged.

"That's Vokun, the guardian of the scroll," Anska said. "It must be just past him."

Yssha was using Marked for Death and her mace, Marcurio his strongest thunderbolts, and Anska was casting ice spears. Vokun was using mostly Unrelenting Force in between blasts from his Staff of Fireballs and conjuring a storm atronach. And, of course, teleporting.

It took time, but eventually he ran out of magica, and Yssha was able to close in and use her mace on him, which ended the fight. She grabbed his mask to add to her collection, but left the rest for the porter team they'd send.

"Good riddance!" Anska exclaimed. "Let's find the scroll. It should be in here somewhere."

"One moment," Yssha said, approaching the Word Wall. That gave her Bah, Wrath, the second word of Storm Call. Then she emptied the Word Wall chest, and saw a scroll on a nearby table. She picked it up. "Is this it?"

"Yes, yes, that's it!" Anska ran to her and took it. "I cannot thank you enough for all of the help." She reached into her pack, handing Yssha a Conjure Flaming Familiar spell tome. "And here's a little something for helping me out."

"If you will indulge my curiosity," Yssha said, "does the scroll have the information you sought?

"Let me look. This is a very exciting moment for me." Anska unrolled the scroll, then frowned "Hmm, it's encrypted. It'll take a while to figure this out. Thank you again for all the help."

Leaving Anska to study her scroll, Yssha and Marcurio found the "back door", and headed for Solitude to send the Porter Service to clean out the ruins.

* * *

While they were there, Yssha decided to stop at Proudspire Manor and see how Qolaas was doing. They found her in the sitting room, writing and sipping wine, wearing a set of Dragon Priest robes and with a staff leaning against her chair. When she heard them, she stood and bowed. "How may I serve you, Lady Dovahkiin?"

"Are you doing well? I see you found the Radiant Raiment."

"Very well indeed," Qolaas replied. "I was just writing a letter to tell you I'll be leaving for Windhelm tomorrow. I have three sets of robes, with the necessary smalls, and supplies for the trip. I'll get more supplies at Windhelm for the sea voyage."

"That sounds good. How is your coin? You will undoubtedly have to hire help to bury the dragons, and to bring out the skeleton Miraak had in the temple as a trophy."

Qolaas snarled. "The Traitor dared even _that_ desecration?"

Yssha nodded. "I would appreciate it if you make that your first priority."

"Most definitely, Lady Dovahkiin, now that I know of it. Do you know who it was?"

"Not at the moment, but let me check." Yssha consulted her inner dovahhe, but even the name was hard to find. "Nahfahlaas, I think, though he is so deeply 'asleep' I cannot be sure."

"That will do," Qolaas said. "I remember the name, but not Nahfahlaas himself. After such humiliation at the Traitor's hands, I should find him a high burial place. If he wakes enough, will you tell him I'm finding - or have found - him a spot far from the Traitor's temple?"

"I will do so," Yssha promised, and this was one she wouldn't require a reminder for. "Now, your coin? You will be competing for labor with the ebony mine, which pays fairly well."

Qolaas checked her purse. "Without counting, I have perhaps five thousand left."

"That should do for a while, and I will be sending a dragon from time to time to see if you require help or more coin." Yssha smiled. "You please me, Qolaas. I am glad I was not forced to kill you."

Qolaas bowed deeply. "So am I, Lady Dovahkiin. I feel you're going to restore the dovah-joor cooperation I was born under, and I feel honored to serve you in that. Or anything else, of course," she added hastily, "but that would please me most."

Yssha hid a smile at Qolaas' phrasing. "Then with both of us happy, I shall leave you to your preparations, and visit a few friends here. Just send Gunjar back to Lakeview when you get to Windhelm."

* * *

As she and Marcurio were passing Castle Dour, a Legionnaire guard hailed her, grinning. "Legate Yssha! Come see!"

They had plenty of time, so they climbed the ramp, and she smiled at the guard. "See what?"

"In the training area, ma'am. Legate Rikke will explain."

Rikke was one of the friends she wanted to see, so Yssha went to the training area. Her friend was watching two Legionnaires putting a couple of large, wolf-like dogs through their paces, and Marcurio made a surprised sound. "War dogs? Here?"

Rikke joined them. "Experimental, to see if they can handle the climate. Skyrim's become the fortress of the Empire that General Tullius predicted it would, so we get any resources he wants to try. I have my doubts about these, though, except maybe in summer. Their coats are too thin to be adequate protection in a Skyrim winter."

"I'm sure their coats will get thicker as they adapt," Marcurio said.

"Or perhaps some sort of non-restrictive garment with a warmth enchantment like our armor," Yssha added. "Such dogs are, in so many ways, useful enough to be well worth a bit of effort making them comfortable."

One of the handlers had heard that, and smiled. "We agree, of course. My Sheo is a search and rescue specialist, as well as the usual combat patroller. Lucius' Scamp is a patroller and camp guard."

Yssha nodded. She'd wondered for a couple of years, during her training, why the Legion used dogs rather than Pahmar or Pahmar-Raht Khajiiti, but eventually realized it was because dogs were less independent and more amenable to following orders without question. "I hope the experiment is a success. Northern Skyrim weather means people lost in snowstorms and avalanches, so search and rescue dogs would be most helpful."

"And the Dawnguard uses armored huskies against vampires," Marcurio pointed out. "I doubt they'd be much help against werewolves or the larger wildlife out there, though."

The handler nodded. "Our boys aren't trained for that sort of thing, no. People and horses, yes, but larger creatures they know to run from unless ordered otherwise." His dog barked, and he chuckled. "Sheo thinks it's time to get back to work, though for him, it's more like play. If you'll excuse us?"

Yssha chuckled as well, and nodded. "Go right ahead." She and Marcurio left the castle after a brief chat with General Tullius, stopping off at the Winking Skeever and Radiant Raiment before returning to Lakeview Manor.

* * *

Yssha sighed as she sorted out the non-crafting items she hadn't left at Proudspire. The glass dagger would make a good replacement for Freyr's iron one, now that she could be fairly sure he wouldn't lose it - he hadn't lost the iron one for a good two weeks now. The leather and fur armors and iron weapons that weren't worth improving she'd sell; the better quality were at Proudspire, to be improved after Windstad had its smithy completed. She'd kept the ingredients for the healing and invisibility potions she usually used, but left the rest; those two potions, unlike many others, didn't stink up the house. That left her with those two oddly-shaped pieces of what had to be aetherium, from the description in _The Aetherium Wars_. She'd found them while helping Arniel Gane with the experiment that had cost him his life.

Getting more information about it, and finding the possibly-nonexistent Aetherium Forge, weren't things she'd promised to do for someone else, but unless Marcurio objected, her curiosity about it was getting the better of her. That, she decided, was what she wanted to investigate tomorrow.


	32. Lost to the Ages

.

Chapter 32 - Lost to the Ages

Marcurio didn't object, so the next morning, she got Odahviing to take them to Arkngthamz. It wasn't reassuring that there was a minor earthquake as soon as they dismounted, but that wasn't enough to discourage her.

They entered the ruin, feeling more shaking, which was followed by a feminine voice. "Turn back."

Yssha chuckled to herself. That wasn't likely! The only threat so far was the earth trembling, no worse than a dragon crashing nearby. they followed the corridor leading downward, and the voice came again. "Please, turn back ... before it's too late ..."

They kept going, finally getting to a very large chamber with a waterfall, a river, and several tumbled columns. That was where the ghost appeared. "What are you still doing here?" it - well, she - asked. "Let me guess - you're here for the treasure. Just like all the rest."

Yssha couldn't deny that honestly, even though she didn't know what the treasure was, so she didn't bother. "Who are you?"

"The name's Katria. I am - was - an adventurer. Raided ruins like this for nigh on twenty years. I was on the trail of something big. It led me here, and ... I didn't make it."

Marcurio looked thoughtful. "Your name's familiar - the Katria _The Aetherium Wars_ is dedicated to, by any chance?"

The ghost nodded. "That was my theory, you know. My research. My life's work. All of it, lost! Stolen by my own damn apprentice! That's how I ended up here. I can't rest. Not until I find the Forge, until I can prove that it was my discovery. Mine, not his!"

She sighed. "It's hopeless. I died here, just like all the others. Turn back. Turn back before you become the next victim."

"We will be fine," Yssha assured her. "We have been through several Dwemer ruins, and I have confidence we will have little trouble with this one."

Marcurio gave her a reproving look, though, so she added, "If you could tell us of the dangers, however, we would be grateful."

Katria nodded. "Well, there are the earthquakes, of course - a big one is what killed me, destroying a lot of Arkngthamz in the process. Then there are Falmer, to start with. Deadly rapids. Major earthquakes. Massive chasms. Unstable ground. Lethal falls. And then you get to the real danger. We can discuss that when the time comes. If it comes." She pointed downward.

Just above the water was a small ledge with a dead woman's body. Yssha and Marcurio climbed down a fallen pipe to reach it - Katria, of course, and the ghost said, "... this is where I ended up. It was ... quite the fall."

Yssha searched the body, taking only Katria's journal. It didn't seem right to do a thorough job, not with Katria's ghost having helped her ... and standing right there, as well. The journal gave a rather different view of what they'd learned from _The Aetherium Wars_.

"17th of Sun's Height

"Damn that scheming elf! Damn him! He steals my notes, my discovery, and publishes it under his name! Twenty years of my life spent digging through those ruins, and what do I get? A dedication? 'Friend and Colleague' my arse. He's just mocking me!

"Well, I'll have the last laugh. Taron may have my theory, but he doesn't have any proof, not yet. If I can find the Forge first, I can show the world this is my discovery. Mine, not his!

"4th of Last Seed

I've got a lead. One of the moldy old books in Mzund mentioned the Forge. Ruined through and through, but I was able to copy down a few scraps, including a map of the first-era Dwemer kingdoms. Need to cross-reference it with modern borders when I get back."

Then there was a map, not too helpful in itself, as Katria had noted, but there were descriptions that were more useful.

"Here's the result:

"1 - Arkngthamz

"This one, 'Arkngthamz', was on the inscription, too. Apparently the main Aetherium research center. Seems like the place to start.

"2 -

"Mentioned as a 'Bthar-zel' ('allied city'?). Not Bthardamz, though. Looks like a smaller site, north or northwest of there, on the river.

"3 -

"The primary source of Aetherium. Extracted from some deeper mine?

"4 -

"A storage site for raw Aetherium, just outside a major city. Apparently, it had to be kept outside because the Aetherium was 'harmonically volatile'.

"5 -

"No name, no identifying information, but page after page of ruined diagrams. Couldn't make out much, but it looks like - an astrolabe, a gear, some sort of crest in four pieces? Could this be the location of the Forge? Something important, at least.

"22nd of Last Seed

"Arkngthamz. My map may be rough, but it was enough to get me here. There may be something to this after all.

"23rd of Last Seed

"Reached the Treasury. There's a Tonal Lock here, still active. Judging from the corpses, it's safe to say the traps are still active, too.

"Couldn't find any clues, so I'll make a sketch and work through this carefully. Five Resonators. Five tones. Just have to hit them in the right order. Let's see... "

Then there was a diagram, showing five resonators. Katria had discovered the first two to activate were lower left and lower right, with low-center not #3. Given that Dwemer tended to be methodical, Yssha was pretty sure the rest went upper-left, upper-right, and lower central, with the carved head between the two upper ones inert.

Seemingly satisfied for the moment, Katria's ghost vanished, and Yssha and Marcurio continued. She turned to him. "I refuse to send our porters into a place this unstable, beloved - so we take out whatever we can carry, and leave the rest."

Marcurio smiled at her. "You'll get no argument from me, dearling."

Looking around, they found a Dwemer chest, then a dead Falmer sprawled on a grating above another part of the river. A bit further on, they were attacked by two dwarven spider workers. Dwarven metal, oil, and a couple of common soul gems joined the contents of their packs.

The grating led them to a chamber filled with water, where a couple of dwarven spider workers intercepted them. The only way past the watery chamber was a slippery-looking pipe arching up and around. She studied it for a few minutes, then turned to her husband. "I think I can make it, beloved, but I should go alone. You do not have Khajiit balance, and I can always use Summon Person when I find a safe place." She grimaced. "And if I do fall, you can come in after me and haul me someplace dry."

She came close to falling a couple of times, where the pipe made turns, but her tail let her regain her balance without actually going into the water. When she got to a passage to the northwest, she cast Summon Person and Marcurio appeared next to her.

At the end of the passageway, a door was opening and closing. Behind it were a couple of odd-looking devices rotating. Fortunately, Marcurio's fascination with history was able to help again. "See those things? Dwarves called them 'Kinetic Resonators'. Don't see them very often, at least not among the clans in Skyrim. Just hit them, and they'll ... do whatever it is they're supposed to do. Usually open something."

The first one didn't seem to do anything but spin up when she hit it, so she went on to the other. When she hit that one and it spun up, a door to the north opened. That revealed a staircase heading up. They were soon in a large chamber, on one of the ledges above where they'd started.

Yssha grinned when she saw some Falmer. "Sot Gein Daal!" she Shouted, and they collapsed. Past them were two of the odd Dwemer chests, with some nice loot they stowed in their packs.

Pathfinder led them upstream along the waterfall, past more Falmer. And still more in the next chamber, along with chaurus and chaurus hunters. Normally she wouldn't be too happy about the last, but she was running short of their chitin to repair Falmer gear before selling it, so this time she didn't mind.

A missed turn took them to a cavern with an open roof and a huge hole in the middle, with their starting point far below. Marcurio spotted a bow at the far end of a fallen tree extending over the hole. Yssha considered going after it, but decided not to. It wasn't the tree-walk that bothered her, it was the possibility of her weight, that far out, overbalancing the tree. Telekinesis, on the other hand ... She cast the spell, carefully untangling the bow from the branch it was caught on, then pulled it to her. It was enchanted, she could tell, but not what the enchantment was - not a common one, then, which might make it a good one for Nevan. They'd find out at home.

Pathfinder got them back on track, and they kept going until they reached a very large chamber with a gigantic Dwemer construction she recognized from the drawing in Katria's journal.

The ghost reappeared as they neared the construction. "Huh, you surprised me. I didn't expect you to get this far - not many do." She pointed to the collection of resonators. "You know what this is? It's a lock. A 'Tonal Lock'. Simple, and very, very deadly. See the Resonators up there? Strike them in the right order, and the doors should open. Get it wrong, and ... well. You've seen what happened when I tried it."

"Would you have any advice for me?" Yssha asked.

"Hmm... well, you can pick up where I left off. My notes should still be in my journal, if you can read it. Beyond that... well, maybe one of our predecessors still has a clue." She pointed toward a body, rather than one of the skeletons littering the cavern.

Yssha examined it, finding a scrap of paper that seemed to confirm her idea about the third resonator to hit, and made her more confident of the ones that should be fourth and fifth. She unslung her crossbow and tested her idea, then grinned when the doors on both sides of the construction swung open.

She retrieved several pieces of Dwemer scrap metal, five ingots, and saw a piece of aetherium on a small podium. Katria hurried to it. "Please, pick that up and let me see it."

Yssha obliged her, smiling.

"Huh... What? What is this? Look, on the edge here. This has been cut, precisely cut. If you had another piece, about the same size, it would... it would snap right in. I saw a drawing of this once. This shard... it's... it's part of a key. A key made of pure Aetherium! The key to the Forge!"

"That sounds promising."

"Well ... we have to find the other pieces, of course. There should be, hmm... three more. One for each of the four cities that worked on the Forge. I had a map, in my journal."

"I already have two others," Yssha said. "The ones from Mzulft and Deep Folk Crossing. That leaves only the one from the mine, then the Forge itself."

"Really? Well now, that makes things easier." Katria smiled happily. "We'll meet again, I'm sure of it, when you've found the fourth shard. For the first time in a long while, I think I - we - may actually be able to do this. And ... and I owe it all to you. Thank you."

With that, she disappeared, leaving Yssha and Marcurio to carry out a more thorough search, then 'port back to Lakeview Manor.

A bit of research there made her certain the mine was at Raldbthar, so the two of them went there the following morning. They were attacked by bandits as soon as Odahviing left, but there weren't enough of them to do more than slow the two a bit. But that meant more of them inside, so Yssha and Marcurio decided to sneak, and get the drop on them.

The first room held a number of dwarven metal items, a few ingots, and a sleeping bandit. Yssha took care of him, and they continued. They encountered more bandits and more dwemer scraps. At one point, they found the bandit leader, and Yssha recovered Aegisbane, an heirloom stolen from Clan Shatter-Shield in Windhelm. That should net them a nice reward, so she stowed it in her pack before they continued.

Past that room, they began running into intact dwarven spiders and spheres, not too much of a challenge for Marcurio's lightning and the shock enchantment on Yssha's mace, though the fiery soul trap was useless against these particular enemies.

A lift took them down, and when they passed a spinning blade trap, they entered a multi-leveled chamber that held Falmer. Yssha used her Restore Falmer Shout, and they went on. More Falmer, a few chaurus, dwarven automatons ... nothing too difficult. At last they came to a small room with a dwarven spider guarding the final aetherium shard. Katria's ghost appeared when she picked it up. "That's it - the last one! See you at Bthalft!"

Yssha chuckled, then she and Marcurio made use of a nearby lift to reach the surface. She checked the sun position, deciding it was early enough to meet Katria for the final stage of this quest.

The ghost was waiting by what looked like an altar with an astrolabe. When they joined her, she was excited. "You made it! And you've brought the shards! Look at the device here - the gear in the center is just about the right size. Try putting the shards in and ... we'll see what happens."

Yssha did so, then watched while the shards turned into a perfectly round Aetherium Crest. Nothing else happened, though, and finally Katria suggested removing the crest. When Yssha did that, the earth began shaking, and all three scrambled back. Moments later, a huge tower rose to the surface, revealing an entrance with a handle in the middle. Katria hurried inside, followed into what looked like an odd dwemer lift. Yssha activated the handle, and they began descending. Quite a long way down, it felt like.

When it stopped, Yssha pulled the other handle she'd noticed, which opened two gates. The eastern one led to an easily-opened chest, so they went back and headed north. Katria estimated the age of their location to be four thousand years, and Marcurio agreed. They followed a series of self-igniting braziers until they came to another astrolabe, and a dead tree at the top of a flight of stairs. As they approached a gate to the west, Katria pointed to two resonators above it. "Door's shut tight. I bet those Resonators would open it, though."

Yssha took care of that, and they found themselves in a long tunnel, again guided by lights going on by themselves. Katria sounded puzzled when she said, "The air here ... it feels different. Almost like ..."

The next door held a huge construction Yssha couldn't identify - could barely see, in fact, thanks to steam coming up through the floor gratings, heated by the lava below. There were valves on platforms to each side, and she turned one while Marcurio got the other. That shut the steam off, and the air cleared quickly - in time to let them see a number of dwarven spiders appear, and attack. Unrelenting Force threw them back, and Marcurio's Chain Lightning spells blasted them. Unfortunately, it also attracted the attention of four dwarven spheres, so it was back to Fire Breath and macework for her. As she was fighting two of them, the steam started again, and she had to use wards to protect herself while she shut it off again.

Then there was a sound from the lava, and the biggest Centurion she'd ever seen surfaced, spraying liquid fire at them. Yssha shifted to her Ice Form Shout, trying to freeze it while Marcurio used Chain Lightning and Katria used a ghostly but effective version of the bow Yssha had recovered.

Eventually, the giant Centurion went down, and the huge construction was accessible, which delighted Katria. "I ... I almost can't believe it. We did it! We actually did it! There's only one thing left to do. We have to prove this actually works. That this is the real Aetherium Forge."

Katria wanted Yssha to forge something, but couldn't find any aetherium. Katria looked frustrated. "There isn't any Aetherium here, is there? Damn it! Wait! ... Yes, yes there is. The shards we collected... they're pure Aetherium, remember? It's not much, but it'll do. With them, and the materials in this room, we should have everything we need."

Yssha went to the chest they'd discovered while searching for aetherium and emptied it while Katria briefed her on what she could make, and what each item would do. For Yssha, the choice was an easy one, and Katria guided her through the process of forging the Aetherial Crown, which would let her use two standing stone abilities.

When she put it on, Katria sighed. "And with that ... it's done. No one could possibly deny what we've found now." She started to fade, still speaking. "For me? I've done what I set out to do. But you ... take that out into the world. And if anyone asks, tell them what we discovered. Together. And now ... I think I can rest. Farewell, my friend, wherever your travels take you." She knelt respectfully, then vanished completely.

"That was ... different," Marcurio said. "May she have a great afterlife."

"May she, indeed," Yssha agreed. "I am glad we were able to help her."

* * *

They stopped by Windhelm briefly, to return Aegisbane to Torbjorn Shatter-Shield, who gave them a generous reward and thanked them profusely, then they went home to Lakeview Manor.


	33. March of the Dead

Chapter 33 - March of the Dead

Yssha was looking through the books she'd accumulated over the last few months, with Marcurio checking some of the titles against their to-do journal. "Beloved, did we promise to pick up _The Mirror_ for someone? I have a vague memory of doing so."

"Um ... just a minute." She heard pages turning, then he replied. "Yes - Captain Aldis, the Legion's head arms trainer at Castle Dour."

"Good, then we can take it to him this morning. It is one of the volumes we found recently, I believe when we were actually looking for the White Phial."

"That sounds good. Then what?"

"Solstheim, I think. We have not been there since rescuing Baldor and exploring Vahlok's Tomb. I would like to see how Glover and the mine are doing, perhaps the Skaal as well. Just a friendly visit ... I hope!"

Marcurio laughed. "We'd better find some backup, then!"

Yssha couldn't help smiling. "Let us get into armor, then."

* * *

Captain Aldis was at his usual post in the training yard when they got to Castle Dour, supervising a sparring match between three Nords in Legion armor and an Imperial in leather, all wielding issue swords, the Legionnaires using shields as well. Yssha wondered at Aldis allowing such a one-sided match, until she was able to catch a glimpse of the Imperial's face. Then she chuckled, settling in to watch. It was one-sided, but not the way she'd originally thought!

"Separate, you three! You're getting in your own way!" Aldis bellowed.

The soldiers looked at each other with uncertainty, but complied. Unfair sparring matches weren't all that uncommon in the Legion, but this time it was three Legionnaires against a civilian who didn't even want a shield.

Taking one more quick glance at his companions, one of the Legionnaires placed his swords on his shield and advanced, full intended on ending the sparring match as soon as possible.

Andreius patiently waited for the soldier to come close. He knew they thought little of him, and that was going to be their losing mistake.

When the Nord was close enough he quickly moved in with a shield bash, followed by a right swing with his sword. Andreius dodged the shield and met his opponent's sword with his own and, with speed that surprised the Nord, he grabbed the sword with his free hand and pulled up with his own cross guard, effectively using a lever and disarming the legionnaire.

The soldier's momentary bafflement at being so easily disarmed gave Andreius the time to recover and strike on his own, bringing both swords down on the soldier. Instincts and training made the nord raise his shield above his head just in time to block both strikes.

Andreius smirked, by raising his shield to block both swords, the Legionnaire left his entire guard open, giving Andreius the opportunity to kick his left knee outwards and force him to kneel. Leaving the former soldier's sword on his shield as a threat, Andreius placed the edge of his own sword on his opponent's exposed neck.

"You're dead, Erald!" Aldis shouted.

Yssha heard someone coming up behind her, and turned to find Sorcalin. He grinned at her, then gestured at the bout going on. "He let himself be put against three, did he?"

"Yes, and refused a shield or magic. He is an outstanding fighter, but I wonder if he did not handicap himself too much."

Sorcalin chuckled. "Don't discount him too early, youngster. They're young and agile, but he's got experience and cunning on his side."

Over two hundred years' worth, yes, Yssha knew. "But - Oh!"

Andreius had let himself get between his two remaining opponents, but instead of trying to defend himself against both, had ducked aside in a way that led one Legionnaire's sword to bash against the other's shield, and let Andreius get behind him, using his sword to make a move that was exactly like Nevan's "sentry take-out".

"You're dead, Fror!" Aldis called.

After that, one-on-one, it was no contest. Yssha wondered why the third Legionnaire even continued the fight, unless perhaps he'd been told not to yield.

When the bout ended, Yssha delivered Aldis' book, then joined Andreius. "Nicely done! I would need a spell or Shout against three foes."

"I prefer to as well - magic,anyway - but Aldis wanted to demonstrate something about overconfidence." Andreius grinned. "Last time you delivered a book and ran into us, we ended up clearing out the Sightless Pit for Jarl Kraldar. What's on the plate this time?"

"Nothing special," Yssha replied. "Or at least nothing special _planned_. I would like to visit Solstheim to see if things are going well in the ebony mine, visit a smith friend, and pick up some alchemy and smithing supplies. I am almost out of chitin plate, so perhaps an expedition beyond the Bulwark to hunt ash hoppers, as well."

"But we've learned the hard way that every time we think something's going to be simple," Marcurio added, "something throws complications at us. Sometimes more than she and I can handle by ourselves without major problems. So we really like to have a couple of other competent fighters with us."

"And Nevan and Serana are off on this 'honeymoon' of his." Andreius grinned. "Well, Sorcalin and I don't have anything special planned, and we haven't been there in a while, so why not? When are you planning to leave?"

"After delivering Aldis' book," Yssha replied "So any time now. But take all the time you need; we can have a chat with Gulum-Ei while we wait, and some small beer would be welcome."

Andreius grinned. "Something that mild? Doesn't sound like you, kid."

Yssha winced. "Please do not remind me. I ... overindulged rather badly during the celebration of our victory over Alduin. Even a glass of wine has been rare since then. Tisane or small beer are my usual drinks these days."

Andreius couldn't help himself; he laughed. "Okay, let's go to the Skeever together. Sor and I'll get our stuff together, then we can leave."

* * *

When they met Odahviing outside the city, Andreius grimaced. "No saddles?"

Odahviing cocked his head in a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "I am not a domestic animal, to wear such. But I will not let you fall."

"That isn't what I was thinking about," Andreius protested. "Those scales just look pretty uncomfortable for a rider. Even worse than bareback on a horse."

Marcurio laughed. "It'll be fine with your armor, but Sorcalin better be wearing something sturdy under those robes."

"Leather riding trews," Sorcalin said with a grin. "Horses can chafe pretty badly too, you know."

Marcurio chuckled, then mounted behind Yssha, with the other two joining them, and Odahviing took off for Solstheim.

Yssha introduced them to Glover Mallory, then asked him how things were doing since the mine re-opened.

He smiled. "I've always had a steady stream of work thanks to the Redoran Guard, so it hasn't affected me much. However, I've seen the smile on people's faces and there's hope around here once again... something we've been lacking for a long time."

"I am glad. Now, what do you have in the way of Solstheim-specific supplies?"

"Right now, just some netch leather and a bit of stalhrim. I know you usually want chitin plate, too, but I'm out at the moment."

"And I am running low myself. Would you be willing to suggest where I could find some ash hoppers? I would also like the netch leather and stalhrim, but I will pick those up when I am ready to leave."

"Okay. I'll get it packed up and ready to go. As for the ash hoppers, hmmm. You might try around Kolbjorn Barrow first, and there've been a few reported around the old Attius farm. Let me mark 'em on your map."

She thanked him, then went over to Milore Ienth's apothecary stall, again asking for Solstheim-specific ingredients. She bought several, but didn't bother with scathecraw or trama root, since those were so abundant. Again, she made arrangements to have her purchases packed for pickup later, then turned to her companions. "So it looks like we head for Kolbjorn Barrow. I assume both of you know what ash hoppers look like?"

Andreius grinned. "We sure do. We've been here before, though that trip was aboard ship, not by dragon."

* * *

Glover's advice proved helpful. By the time they neared Kolbjorn Barrow, they'd killed eight ash hoppers and Yssha had harvested their chitin plate for smithing and jelly for alchemy.

There was a small camp there, and a man digging inside the barrow's rim. Yssha was intrigued, and approached him, hearing him muttering to himself. "Damn it, what am I going to do?"

"What is wrong with you?" she asked curiously.

He sounded irritated when he replied. "With me? What's the matter with _you_?" Then he sighed and apologized. "Sorry, I've just had a lot of hork-faced cowards coming by to mock my efforts ... bah. It probably can't hurt to tell you. You look mostly honest. The name's Ralis. Ralis Sedarys, out of Mournhold. I've got a financier waiting for me back on the mainland. Sent me here in the interests of obtaining some rare antiquities. The 'Relics of Ahzidal.' But this whole thing became a disaster right quick, let me tell you."

"And I am Dovahkiin, as you can probably tell." When he nodded, she continued. "May I ask what your problem is?"

"You come out to the northern ashlands, you don't expect things to go easy, you know?" Ralis sighed. "But this was something outside my particular expertise. When I first got to Kolbjorn, you couldn't even see it. Buried in the ash, like most other things on this blasted island. Dug out a pile of the stuff taller than me just to find the barrow. Who knows how much to reach the door. Excavating isn't exactly my specialty. Even if it was, the ash storms fill it in faster than you can dig."

"Have you considered hiring miners from Raven Rock?"

He snorted. "You think I've got that kind of money? No, I only get paid on delivery. Can't afford to go out of pocket for a thousand septims on this. Takes money to make money, all that rot. There's a lot of it at the other end, but I can't get there without a little kick to start it off."

"If you would be interested in a partner, I have adequate coin for that."

"What? Are you ... are you serious, Dragonborn? Well, I think I could make that work ... We can sort out the details of our little arrangement later, but for now, I'll manage the dig if you can manage the coin. Do you have the gold?"

"I do." She handed him the thousand, and said, "Now, what are we trying to find?"

"You ever hear of Ahzidal? He was the first great Nord enchanter, maybe even the first human to master elven methods. His best work was buried with him, though. A set that my patron calls 'the Relics' are supposed to be down in his tomb. Now, they're old, and they're powerful. A combination like that makes them pretty valuable to certain people, and I happen to know certain people. There's a book about him on the table by my tent. You can have it; I've got it pretty well memorized."

He counted the money carefully, then smiled. "Hmm ... it's all here. Well, then ... looks like I have a good bit of work to start on. I'll head back to Raven Rock and round up some diggers. Once we've got something worth looking at, I'll send word to you. Pleasure doing business with you, partner. I'll see you soon."

"Later, then."

As they left Kolbjorn Barrow heading toward the old Attius farm, hoping to find more ash hoppers, Andreius grinned at her. "Do you think that's going to be a good investment, kid?"

Yssha shrugged, returning the grin. "I have no idea, but you know my curiosity. I will know more after I read the book he gave me. Oh, no you - "

The last was addressed to an ash hopper advancing on her. She killed it, collected her supplies, and they continued. Two more hoppers, and they heard sounds of combat coming from the farm. They headed for it, and saw a man in bonemold armor trying to defend himself from what looked like half a dozen stone creatures, glowing red in spots.

The four readied weapons and spells, going to the man's aid. Yssha found a position where she wouldn't hit him, and used Frost Breath on two of the enemy. One shattered, turning into a pile of ash, and she went for the one who'd only been slowed with her mace.

With the odds evened, the rest of the fight didn't last long, and they approached the man. Yssha recognized him as Captain Veleth, head of the Redoran Guard. He knew her and Marcurio, so she introduced Andreius and Sorcalin.

"Thanks ... I wasn't sure I'd make it off this farm alive. I wish I could have said the same for my man here." He gestured to a dead Redoran Guard nearby.

"What were those things?" Marcurio asked.

"The men've been calling them ash spawn," Veleth replied. "They've been attacking the Bulwark lately, and we were out here to find out more about them. No one knows what they are, where they come from, or why they're attacking. Since they usually come from this direction, we were looking for clues."

"We would be happy to lend a hand, if you wish."

"Good, I can use all the help I can get. We were searching the farm when the ash spawn ambushed us. Have a look around and see if you can turn up anything useful. I'll check the farmhouse if you'll look at the remains."

That made sense, so she nodded and they went to their tasks. The ash spawn she checked had a corundum ore, a flawless ruby, and ash she thought might be useful alchemically, but nothing that looked like a clue to any of Veleth's questions.

It was Sorcalin who held up a note. "I think this is what we're looking for."

Veleth heard him, and rejoined them. "Let me see that."

He skimmed the note, frowning, then read it aloud.

"Ravenrock Stronghold,

"My calls for the unconditional surrender of your forces and an immediate cessation of all hostilities have been ignored numerous times. I therefore have no choice but to assume your purpose on Solstheim is hostile, and to treat Raven Rock Stronghold as an enemy of the Empire. I warn you, any attempt to breach Fort Frostmoth will be met with an equal level of aggression. I will do everything in my power to wipe you and your forces off the face of Tamriel. There will be no further communications between us.

"General Falx Carius

"Garrison Commander, Fort Frostmoth"

"Falx? That's imposible!" Andreius exclaimed, his surprise evident.

"You knew him?" Yssha asked.

"No, but I've heard he was in charge of the fort two hundred years ago." Not true; he'd actually worked with Falx a few times, but Veleth couldn't be told that. He'd apologize to Yssha later, and fill her in.

"Carius was the Imperial garrison commander at Fort Frostmoth," Veleth said, frowning, "but he died over two hundred years ago when the Red Mountain leveled the place. There's no way he could still be alive. I'd like you to investigate Fort Frostmoth while I go back to Raven Rock and rally the troops."

The four watched him leave, and managed to keep from snickering until he was out of earshot. Two of them, after all, were over two hundred themselves, another would eventually get there, and the fourth, being a mage, might, so Carius still being alive was hardly unbelievable.

Andreius grinned at Yssha. "I think I see why you want backup on something that looks harmless on the surface. So now we head for Fort Frostmoth, hmm?"

"It does not always happen, but often enough that it has become a running joke. Yes - we are close enough it is not worth calling Odahviing for transport."


	34. Fort Frostmoth

Chapter 34 - Fort Frostmoth

Like everything else in this part of Solstheim, Fort Frostmoth was covered in ash. The walk had resulted in two more ash hoppers, which brought the total so far to thirteen, nicely restocking her supply of chitin plate. As they approached the fort's main gate, a voice called out, "Men, an invader has entered the fort! Prepare yourselves for an ambush!"

Several ash spawn emerged from the fort - and the ash - attacking with both weapons and firebolt spells while the voice continued: "Fort Frostmoth will never fall! Long live the Empire!"

Frost and ice spells seemed to work best on the things, so Yssha Shouted "Iiz ... Slen!" at the closest. Even though she only had two Words of that one, the thing shattered, the fragments collapsing into ash. She did use her mace on a couple, but mostly concentrated on Ice Form Shouts and frostbite spells. When the attacks slowed, then stopped, she turned to the rest. "Is everyone well?"

They took care of healing some minor wounds, then entered the fort's main building, to find it heavily drifted with ash, shelves tumbled, armor and weapons scattered - and another ash spawn that Marcurio saw first and killed.

Shortly after that, they found a skeleton in Imperial armor laying beside a knapsack. Yssha searched both, finding four letters from Maximian Axius to his wife, Selina. She read them to the rest. The first told of shoring up the fort's walls, and the soldier's loyalty to General Carius. The next was about a comrade killed while they were escorting a supply train from the fort to Raven Rock and were ambushed by Rieklings, with further assurances to her of his confidence in the General. In the third, he was sounding discouraged by their supply ship not arriving, and uncertainty whether the Empire cared about them at all. The last described the eruption of Red Mountain, written as Maximian lay trapped in the rubble.

"I'll take those," Andreius offered. "The Legion doesn't abandon its own. There's an office that specializes in things like this; with his name and his wife and children's, they may be able to trace any current descendants and deliver the letters to them."

"I am sure they would appreciate knowing what happened to their ancestor." Yssha handed him the letters. "Thank you."

More methodical exploration found them a dead end to the west with some minor treasure and another ash spawn, then north along a slightly less ash-choked corridor. At an intersection they went west again, encountering some odd white spiders that were no particular problem, and some interesting-looking deposits that yielded some rubies and two heartstones. A knapsack laying by one of two coffins turned out to be empty except for a key, which Yssha took; where there was such a key, the lock it opened was usually fairly close. She smiled when she saw a journal atop the other coffin.

* * *

Ildari's Journal, vol. IV

by Ildari Sarothril

"Day 32

"It's been almost a month since unearthing the crypt at Fort Frostmoth, and I haven't seen a single spark of life in the general's remains. Grafting the heartstone to the subject is proving much more difficult than I originally anticipated. I've used almost every method I can think of, and still there's no sign of reanimation. At this rate, it could be years before I make any progress... which is time that I just can't afford right now. If my vengeance is to come to fruition, I need results. If not, I may need to resort to more drastic measures.

"Day 47

"It finally appears that I'm making some progress. After my latest experiment, General Carius's eyes briefly opened and he moved his arms. It lasted for less than a few moments, but it's the first sign of progress I've seen since I arrived here. A few of my assistants were insisting that I was imagining things, but I dismissed them for their insolence. They won't be bothering anyone ever again.

"Day 55

"General Carius awoke fully today. He bolted upright after my incantations and began staggering around like a blind man. He seemed to ignore my commands ... in fact, hearing my voice seemed to increase his hostility. I was able to remove the heartstone before he became violent, but this isn't a result that I expected. Even though he's able to be awakened, I feel as though the real work has just begun.

"Day 59

"The general is still unable or unwilling to listen to my commands. He's acting increasingly paranoid, and appears to have his own free will. He's convinced that I am a 'spy' or the 'enemy,' and I've had to restrain him to prevent him from outright attacking me. This is becoming intolerable. I'm beginning to wonder if someone with a heartstone can be commanded at all. If my experiments with General Carius fail, I may have to resort to self-experimentation ... something I've been avoiding for a long time."

* * *

"Damn necromancers," Andreius swore. "And doing something like that to Falx!"

"You did know him, then?" Yssha asked. "But you did not wish Veleth to know that?"

"Correct on both, since it would've given away my age," Andreius said. "Yes, I dealt with him numerous times as Nerevarine. He was a good man, and a good leader, as you saw from those letters. He shouldn't have been brought back from Aetherius to suffer under that damn necromancer."

"Divines willing, he will be back there soon, if he is not already," Yssha said softly.

There was silence for several moments, then they returned to a door beside Axius' skeleton that they hadn't been able to pick, but the key opened it easily. After a couple of flights of stairs, they saw a man in somewhat outdated Imperial armor facing them. "What's that?" he said, then attacked, wielding a very unusual warhammer. "Now you're mine!"

"Falx, wait!" Andreius exclaimed, then was forced to defend himself.

Yssha started to help him, but Sorcalin held her back. "Let him do it," he said softly. "We'll just keep the ash spawn from interfering."

Yssha nodded, and the three turned their attention to doing just that. It took longer than Yssha would have expected for Andreius to kill General Carius for the second time, even using magic and a sword he'd summoned that she didn't seem to remember seeing before.

Once Carius was dead again, Andreius turned to the others. "Would you leave us alone for a bit?"

Yssha nodded. "We will find shovels and prepare a grave in the courtyard."

"Thanks." Andreius knelt beside the body, and as the others left, murmured, "No, Falx. You didn't fail. And you'll be avenged."

* * *

Outside, they did as they'd promised, and while they were digging, Marcurio said, "Something here doesn't add up. That was Volume IV, so we're missing the first three. And except for the journal, there was no trace of Ildari herself."

"I think we all noticed," Sorcalin said. "It seems pretty clear that she did her early research elsewhere, came here specifically for Falx, and when that didn't work out, went back to her original hideout. We'll have to find that."

When Carius had been given as proper a burial as was possible under the circumstances, Andreius turned to Yssha. "Is there any way we can find out more about that necromancer, and maybe do something about her?"

"Perhaps," Yssha said thoughtfully. "We are fairly close to Tel Mithryn; if anyone on Solstheim would know anything about her, I would think it would be Master Neloth. We could ask him."

She couldn't quite identify Andreius' expression at that name. "Would that be a Master Mage Neloth of House Telvanni?"

Yssha nodded. "An arrogant and self-centered mer, but an incredible mage. Do you know him?"

Andreius returned the nod. "That's a good description. Yes - along with the other Telvanni councilors, he voted for me as Hortator of that House. I can't exactly say I'll be glad to see him again, but you're right, he knows a lot about a lot of things. Let's go."

Yssha led the way. She'd planned on returning to Raven Rock to report the General's death, but she also didn't want a powerful necromancer running around loose, so perhaps this should take priority, after all. Just a routine change of plans, she thought wryly.

She frowned when they encountered a body about halfway to the huge mushroom house. "Varona Nelis, Steward of Tel Mithryn," Yssha adentified the Dunmer woman. "Master Neloth is not going to be pleased with this news."

"No, he isn't," Marcurio and Andreius both agreed. "Well, let's get it over with," Andreius continued.

They walked quietly for a bit, then Marcurio said, "That sword you were using ... it's clearly Daedric, but I've never read or heard anything about a 'Moonbeam'." He grinned at Andraeius' expression. "Yes, I can read Daedric writing."

Andreius managed a chuckle. "Probably because it's fairly new, and not many have seen it. Azura created it specifically for me, one of the times I was recuperating in Moonshadow." He summoned the sword again, and let Marcurio examine it.

Marcurio brushed his fingers very lightly along the blade. "It's beautiful," he said softly. "It actually looks like a crystallized moonbeam. Enchanted, too - sharpness, and ... hmm. Feels like Chaos, but not quite right."

"Because it's not random, like most Chaos enchantments. It detects which is most effective against whatever I'm fighting at the time, and uses that. Very, very handy."

"It would be. Very nice! And given what you've said, no time limit, like most bound weapons have?"

"Right. It stays around until I dismiss it."

"May I see?" Yssha asked, and when Andreius showed it to her, smiled. "A most potent weapon indeed. I am glad she gave it to you."

"So am I. It's saved me the hassle of several recuperations since I got it. Not that time in Moonshadow isn't welcome now and then, but at the wrong time, it can be annoying."

Yssha chuckled. "I understand - I feel the same about my times in Stormhaven, but - so far, at least - I do not court those times." She sobered. "Though I may later, if my loved ones end up there, or in Sovngarde, which I have been promised entry to."

By the time that conversation was done, they'd arrived at Tel Mithryn's door, which she opened to the levitation chamber, and they floated up. Once they were on the "dock" structure, she went into the room itself, and looked around for Neloth.

"I fear we have some bad news for you, Master Neloth. We found Varona dead, about a mile west of here."

"Dead? Well that's annoying. How did she die?"

"It looked like she was killed by ash spawn."

Neloth shrugged "There are more and more of those things showing up around here lately. I suppose you'll have to find me a new steward. Try Raven Rock. They are in awe of me there. I'm sure almost anyone would be willing to serve me."

Yssha hid a smile. Yes, he'd just assume that she'd obey, and that someone would be eager to serve him. Did he not even know his reputation as a terrible employer? "I will see what I can do. In the meantime - "

She handed him the journal. "Do you know anything about this Ildari Sarothril?"

He skimmed the journal, then studied both her and Andreius. "Mmm. Dragonborn and Nerevarine working together? Fascinating. Yes, I can. She was my apprentice before Talvas. She volunteered for one of my experiments involving heart stones. It was quite annoying when she died.

"My necropsies of Spriggans led me to believe that a heart stone could be implanted in a person's chest, granting them great power. I was considering replacing my heart with a heart stone. Fortunately Ildari offered to let me operate on her first. Of course this was before your briarheart expedition. Now I know that I did the surgery all wrong."

She'd forgotten about that, probably because it hadn't taken more than a quick trip to her alchemy lab to get him one, not a real expedition.

Neloth scowled. "But from this journal, it seems she didn't actually die. She did no experimenting of her own on heart stones before the surgery. The heart stone could have kept her right at the edge of life and death. Could it be? Could Ildari still be alive? Wait a moment while I cast a more specific divination."

Moments afterward, he cast a spell that lit up most of the tower, and began to talk in a completely different voice. Yssha wondered if that happened to her when she let herself be "borrowed".

"She lives. Seek her in Highpoint Tower." Neloth returned to himself, and spoke normally. "Go there and take care of it. That's the sort of thing you heroes do. Go rip that thrice cursed heart stone from her chest."

Yssha glanced at Andreius, who nodded decisively, as she'd expected, and said, "Let's go."

Outside Tel Mithryn, she checked her map and decided it would take too long to walk, when it would probably end in another fight, so she called Odahviing and got him to transport them.

The tower was partially collapsed, but they were able, after fighting three ash spawn, to gain entry through a tunnel on the north side.

Down two flights of spiral stairs, they found another journal on a table.

"Ildari's Journal, Vol. I

"by Ildari Sarothril

"The fools have taken me in. Weak, pathetic men intent on looting this ancient fortress with their crude mining. Niyya is pleasant enough. I may choose to spare her when the time comes.

"I'm still weak from Neloth's betrayal. He promised me power and glory. He failed to mention the constant pain. And the voices. By the three, I would do anything to not hear the voices.

"When my strength returns, I will have my vengeance upon my former master. I can feel the power of the heart stone beating inside me. I need to find a way to tap into its power. Then he shall pay in blood and fire and ash."

"Looks like you were right, Sorcalin," Marcurio commented.

They made their way deeper, disarming a spellcaster trap and fighting a number of frostbite spiders. There were more spiders in a nearby room, then they encoutered another spellcaster trap. In the next chamber, they avoided a tripwire and an elemental rune in the center of the room.

The next room held another rune, this one oddly placed on a wall. Tunnels went north and south. With no indication of which would be best, Yssha went south. They found a room with several cells, centered on a table with another journal.

"Ildari's Journal, Vol. II

"by Ildari Sarothril

"I am stronger now. The heart stone kept me alive after Neloth's butchery. I can feel the bones in the ash calling to me. I can call back to them too. With the heart stone I can bind the spirits to bone and ash and raise a servant to do my bidding.

"Tonight I will seize control. These miners and fortune seekers are pawns of Neloth. I can feel them staring at me. I'm sure they are sending him messages, reporting on my every move. The only ones I can trust are the voices. They've never lied to me. They've shown me that these fools plan to betray me, just like Neloth.

"When they are all asleep, I will raise my ash spawn. Their brute of a leader will die first. I can see the lust in his heart. He may act all kind and generous, but I know what he wants, what they all want. They want the heart stone.

"I'll keep a few prisoners. I need test subjects for my experiments. There is more that the heart stone can do. I just need to try out a few ideas."

Then a woman in one of the cells called to them, and Yssha picked the lock to release her. "Thank you for rescuing me," the woman said. "That witch was going to kill me soon, I just know it." She paused briefly before continuing. "We were digging in these mines when she found us. She was hurt so bad. We took pity on her and nursed her back to health. She repaid our kindness by attacking us in the middle of the night. Those of us that didn't die were made prisoners." She explained how Ildari had used her saviors for experiments that sounded more like Thalmor tortures. "Take revenge for my friends - make her suffer! Me, I'm leaving Solstheim and never coming back." With that she ran for the exit.

They looked around, but found nothing else, so they went back to the decision point and went north, following the passage until they reached a large chamber with an unfamiliar device in the center. Marcurio was studying it when they heard a voice from above.

"You've gone far enough. Neloth is a fool to think he could send some low life to finish me off." At that she activated the device, creating an ash spawn - and several others also emerged. Once those were cleared away, the group did more exploring, until they found another journal.

"Ildari's Journal, vol. III

"by Ildari Sarothril

"These warrens are well suited to me. I can plot my vengeance undisturbed. I've created many ash spawn and summoned atronachs to do my bidding. Yet I know it isn't enough. Neloth is a wily old wizard. I need more power.

"I'm out of test subjects, except for Niyya. I saved her for last. She pretended to be my friend when I first came here. But now I know the truth. The voices have told me all about her lies and betrayal. She works with Neloth to bring me down. I've saved a special experiment just for her. It will take quite a while to complete.

"I can't attack Neloth directly, he's too powerful. But I can make his life uncomfortable. I've killed his steward. I've withered his home. Maybe I should poison his precious tea. I'll need a more capable servant for that. The ash spawn are too clumsy for such delicate work."

* * *

At last they found Ildari herself, defended by elemental traps firing at them, a Staff of Lightning Bolts, and other assorted spells. She was powerful, but still, there were four of them to her one, so it wasn't long before she fell to her knees. Andreius was closest to her when that happened, so it was he who tore the heartstone out of her chest, ending her mortal existence.

They found some very nice loot, which Yssha insisted on splitting with Andreius and Sorcalin, then they flew back to Tel Mithryn. She showed Neloth the first three volumes, proving Ildari's guilt. When he'd read that, he actually smiled at her, something she hadn't been sure he was capable of. "Well, well. You have proven to be a more valuable ally than I anticipated. I have a staff for you, but I would also like to make you a member of my household. A member of House Telvanni. No need to thank me. I know you are overwhelmed with gratitude." He handed her a Staff of Chain Lightning.

She accepted it. "What does being a member of House Telvanni mean?"

"For now, not much. But in a few decades when I return to Vvardenfell, you would be seen as Morrowind nobility. In the meantime, we would keep a bed and chest here for you."


	35. Served Cold

Chapter 35 - Served Cold

When they got back to Raven Rock, they looked up Captain Veleth, and told him General Carius was dead again. He looked pleasantly surprised. "I had my suspicions that he was undead. How else could he have survived for over 200 years? It's a shame. There are quite a few tales of General Carius's exploits, including the founding of Raven Rock. Councilor Morvayn told me to give this to you if you made it back in one piece ... and you got rid of General Carius." He handed her a pair of heavy coinpurses, one of which she handed to Andreius despite protests.

Then Veleth frowned. "Councilor Arano has something he'd like to speak to you about, at your earliest convenience."

"Did he say what it was about?"

"All he wanted me to do was track you down and send you to him. Look, this is important - even more important than wiping out the ash spawn. Please, go see the Second Councilor as soon as possible."

"All right. But at the moment, we need refreshments, and rest. We have been through several fights already today."

Veleth nodded his understanding. "Try the Retching Netch. And if you'd like an amusing story, ask Geldis, the bartender, about the name."

Yssha smiled. "All right, and thank you." The corner-club - why was it called that? - was close to Glover's forge, and shortly after, they were inside. She ordered a meal, while the rest found a table.

Then she remembered Veleth's advice. "Is there a story behind this club's name?"

The dark elf laughed. "Indeed there is. A few years ago, I was walking down by the docks and I noticed a Dunmer staggering along with a bottle of sujamma in hand. He was one of my patrons, and liked to drink heavily, so I wasn't exactly surprised."

"That does not seem particularly unusual, especially on Solstheim."

"Ah, but you see this particular Dunmer was as naked as the day he was born and singing badly at the top of his lungs. As I'm watching this spectacle, a netch floats over the Bulwark towards him. The man looks straight up at the netch... yells 'have a drink' and tosses the bottle... and it never hit the ground."

Yssha chuckled. "So what did the netch do?"

"Well, the bottle broke on the netch, and it must have swallowed its contents because it started floating sort of tilted. Finally, it stopped and began to quiver. A few moments later, the foulest liquid to ever assail your nostrils spewed from its maw. I've seen plenty of drunks in my day, and I'll tell you right now that netch was sick."

Yssha laughed. "An interesting story, but I am glad I was not here that day!"

"Can't say I blame you," Geldis said with a chuckle.

* * *

They decided to stay the night on Solstheim rather than fly all the way back to the mainland and return in the morning, so they rented rooms at the Netch. After breakfast the next morning, they went in search of Councilor Arano, finding him halfway out of town on the road to the Earth Stone.

He wasted no time. "Thank you for coming. After everything you've already done for Raven Rock, I hate to ask for more, but I can't risk Councilor Morvayn being killed."

Yssha frowned. "He is in danger of being killed? How?"

" The Ulen Family of House Hlaalu, a rival Great House, has placed a deathmark on the councilor's head."

"Why would the Ulens want him dead?"

"It's a private matter. Let's just say they seek revenge for the execution of one of their own ... ordered by Councilor Morvayn himself. The problem is I don't have any solid proof that anyone from House Hlaalu is hidden among us. Only my suspicions."

Yssha wasn't sure about this, but the best way to find out more seemed to be agreeing with him. "Your concern seems justified."

Arano frowned briefly. "It may be justified, but it certainly isn't appreciated. Councilor Morvayn simply feels I'm being paranoid. I'm afraid that one day I'll awaken and discover him dead. I don't want it to come to that."

"You seem to feel an attack on the Councilor is imminent."

"I do. I've received some information from my sources that could be evidence of Ulen's house, House Hlaalu is already in Raven Rock."

"Why have you not acted on your information?"

He sighed. "Raven Rock is a small settlement, so it's hard to accomplish anything in secret. If any of them is from House Hlaalu, I wouldn't be able to make a move without them knowing."

He sounded quite worried, and it was certainly plausible. "How can I help?"

Arano smiled briefly. "I had a feeling you would be willing to listen."

"Where do I begin?"

"I need you to start out by being my eyes and ears ... search Raven Rock. See if you can root out those traitors. The best place to start would be Geldis Sadri at the Retching Netch corner club. If he provides you any leads, check them out before bringing them to my attention. I can't afford to make any mistakes."

Yssha nodded, and they started to leave, but Arano wasn't quite finished. "Don't worry ... you can trust Geldis. He's been with us for a long time."

Back in the Netch, they waited for Geldis to finish a conversation with Dreyla Alor, then approached. "Adril Arano said you might be able to help me," Yssha told him.

That got a grin. "Well, well, Adril's got himself a spy, does he? Azura knows he needs all the help he can get."

Yssha studied him for a moment. "You think he is mistaken?"

Geldis shook his head. "No, I just think he's going about this the wrong way."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Actually, I do. If you want to catch those slippery slaughterfish, you need to let them come to you."

"How do I get them to do that?

"There's an Ulen Ancestral Tomb near the Temple. Someone's been leaving ash yam offerings on the altar inside. If you were to wait inside for whoever that is, I'm betting they'll have some answers for you."

"Why haven't you told Adril about this?"

Geldis looked a bit offended. "What makes you think I haven't? Any time Adril and the Redoran Guard made a move, the Ulens must've been one step ahead, and didn't show up."

Yssha smiled. "Thank you for the tip."

"You can thank me if it works. Until then, I'd head to the tomb and wait until your visitor shows up."

Yssha turned to the rest. "I believe I should go there alone. A group this size might scare the visitor off."

"Go ahead, love," Marcurio said. "We'll wait here for you."

The Ancestral Tomb was empty when she entered. She debated going into stealth mode, but decided against it. She waited patiently until the door opened, and the visitor got close enough to the lights on the altar for her to recognize Tilisu Severin.

Her presence surprised Tilisu. "Oh, excuse me! I didn't realize there was anyone else here. Forgive my surprise, but I wouldn't have expected that from someone who wasn't a Dunmer."

"What are you doing here?" Yssha asked quietly.

"I presume the same thing you're doing ... leaving an offering for the departed."

"But you are not an Ulen."

"Since there aren't any Ulens left on this island, I've taken it upon myself to leave the traditional offering in their stead."

"That is most thoughtful of you. I will leave you to it, then."

"Oh, no bother. We all have a right to be here. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to meditate for a bit."

Yssha left her to it, returning to the Netch to pick up her temporary team, and they went in search of Adril Arano. When they found him, Yssha made her report. "I suspect Tilisu Severin to be the culprit."

"Tilisu? Are you sure?"

Yssha nodded. "I saw her in the Ulen tomb."

He looked surprised. "So Geldis' plan worked, eh? Every time we tried, no one would show up. If Tilisu's involved in any sort of plot to harm Councilor Morvayn, I'm going to need hard evidence to prove it."

"So go search their house," Yssha suggested.

Adril shook his head. "I'm not kicking down anyone's door until I have solid evidence in hand. If you're wrong about Tilisu, things would quickly go downhill around here and the real culprits might slip away. I can't afford for that to happen."

"What if they try to stop us?"

"If you have the evidence and it places your life in peril, I would expect you to do whatever you must to keep yourself alive." He handed her the key to Severin Manor. "Here, this key should open the front door of the manor in case they've locked it. Good luck."

Yssha used the key to unlock Severin Manor, and was surprised to find both Tilisu and Mirri waiting for them, armed. They attacked as soon as she entered, and she automatically responded with Unrelenting Force to knock them away. That killed Tilisu, shattering her head against one of the stairway posts, and Marcurio had taken care of Mirri within seconds. Yssha sighed, and searched the bodies, primarily for keys, though she left nothing on them but their smalls, just in case.

They explored the house, but left everything alone until they found a safe. One of the keys opened it, so she didn't have to take the time - or waste picks - on in. There were some valuables inside, which she took, and something labelled "The Ulen Matter". That she opened and read.

"The Ulen Matter

"by Vendil Ulen

"Dear Councilor Saldin,

In a matter of days I believe we'll be ready. Our forces hidden within Ashfallow Citadel have been training night and day, ready to strike when we give the signal. With Captain Veleth distracted by the ash spawn attacks, the timing seems perfect. I've waited nearly a decade to exact my revenge upon Lleril Morvayn for the death of my ancestor and I long for the moment my blade will be drawn across his throat. The next letter you'll receive from me will include his head in a sack. Display it proudly in the halls of House Hlaalu, brother.

"Vendil Ulen"

"We have it," she told the rest. "This is what Councilor Arano needs. Let us go find him."

They left the house, re-locking the door behind them, and going in search of Arano.

They found him in Councilor Morvayn's house. She approached, and waited till he acknowledged her. "I have found evidence proving the Severin's guilt," she said, handing him the letter.

"Then we finally have them!" he said with satisfaction. "All that remains now is chasing them down, and bringing them to justice."

"I do not think they will give up willingly," she cautioned.

Arano surprised her by saying, "Good!" He paused, grinning, then continued. "I'm going to send two of the best Redoran Guard we have to take them down. I want you to assist them any way you can."

"We will go there immediately."

"See that you do. We can't afford to let those traitors slip away."

* * *

Outside Ashfallow Citadel, which looked like it had been abandoned for years, if not centuries, they found two dead Redoran Guards. And were promptly attacked by people in armor Yssha didn't recognize, but Andreius did. "Morag Tong!"

Yssha had heard of that - Morrowind's assassin guild, working under, if she understood correctly, government authorization. That struck her as difficult to believe, though.

Not that it really mattered what they were called. Improvised or not, the team worked well together, killing the enemy with weapons, Voice, and magic, then they entered the Citadel.

Inside, it was routine for experienced adventurers. Enemies, hidden locks, traps, the whole catalog. Yssha couldn't call it boring, not with their lives at stake most of the time, but ... routine, yes. There were only a limited variety of traps, locks, and foes, after all, and by this time, she and her team had encountered most of them.

Finally, they found their target, past a final barred door. He attacked, yelling, "For Vilur Ulen! Long live House Hlaalu!" Two more Morag Tong joined the attack.

Even with their aid, the final battle lasted less than a minute, ending with Vendil's final, "I join you in death, father..."

Back in Raven Rock, they found Arano in Morvayn's house. She told him about the fight, telling him about the dead Redoran Guards."Damn it. I was hoping to protect our people by sending them, not end up with casualties. To think that Vendil would stoop so low as to hire those fetchers ... I'm glad you killed him."

Then he turned to Morvayn. "Excuse me, Councilor Morvayn? I have some wonderful news."

"Adril ... I haven't seen a smile on your face like that in a long time."

"This visitor and her people have dealt with a threat that could have ended your life. Vendil, Tilisu and Mirri Severin weren't who they appeared to be. I'm afraid they were here to avenge Vilur Ulen's death."

"Vendil? But he's done so much for Raven Rock... how could this be possible?"

"They did it to gain our confidence, Councilor. They had us all fooled. I should have been more vigilant. I'm sorry."

"Don't say that. It's not your fault, old friend."

Then Councilor Morvayn asked Yssha to step forward. "What you've done for me ... for all of Raven Rock ... goes far beyond what I would have expected from a traveler to our town. For this, you have my deepest gratitude." He paused. "Now. I'm certain Adril was prepared to reward you appropriately for everything you've done. However, since a bit of coin hardly seems like enough ... I've decided to provide something more substantial.

"Since the Severin family ... or whoever they were...turned out to be criminals, their property is now forfeit. As Councilor, I hereby award you Severin Manor and everything contained within. You've earned your citizenship here, and I hope you'll consider staying with us as a member of our community." He handed her a couple of coin purses, as well.

Yssha thanked him, and her group left, returning to her new house. She didn't really need yet another residence, though it might come in handy from time to time if she didn't want to return to the mainland for some reason. And it did have both an alchemy lab and an enchanting station, which might be useful.

She turned to Andreius, for something that had slipped her mind earlier. "You and Sorcalin do not need to stay at inns, most places in Skyrim. I have homes in all Holds but ... hmm. Winterhold, now, I believe - and you are welcome to stay at those. I have sent couriers to my housecarls to let them know you are welcome."

Andreius smiled. "Thanks - that could be helpful, and we appreciate it."


	36. A New Purpose

Chapter 36 - A New Purpose

Yssha was ... well, the problem at the moment was that she wasn't sure _what_ she was. It felt like she should be doing something major, but the only major thing that needed done right now was winning the war, and her best contribution to that was staying out of the professionals' way. Neither strategy nor diplomacy were her strong points, and there wasn't much call for a four-person team of mages and spell-swords.

She needed to talk to someone besides her team. Who, though? Her feeling of uselessness wasn't worth bothering a Divine about, she was certain. Andreius and Sorcalin had gone on about their own business after their return from Solstheim, or she might have asked Andreius, since he was immortal. On the other hand, he knew even less about her dragon side than she did, so if it came from that, he wouldn't know any more than she did. Paarthurnax, perhaps? He was patient with her, and though she couldn't be certain, she thought he might have enough experience with Dragonborns to be able to help.

Nevan and Serana weren't back yet, so it was Yssha, Marcurio, and Odahviing who made the trip to the Throat of the World. She greeted her mentor with a smile. "Drem yol lok, Paarthurnax."

"Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin," he replied politely. "What tinvaak do you wish today?"

"Advice, if you will, Wuth Gein [old one]."

"So formal, my young friend?" Paarthurnax gape-grinned. "Any time. What is your problem?"

Yssha settled herself against Odahviing's side. "It is hard to say, fahdoni. It is merely a feeling that I should be doing something more significant than ... random adventuring, though since my defeat of Miraak, I have no idea what that might be." She sighed. "I was born to defeat Alduin, and did so. I helped eliminate the Volkihar vampire clan. I ended the Skyrim civil war, though hardly by myself. After that, Miraak's cultists attacked me, so I was forced to defeat him as well, in self-defense. Since then, I have been ... drifting. My team - or teams - and I have accomplished things, useful ones, but ... " She sighed again.

"Ah, I see." Paarthurnax shifted position, so he could look at her directly, and settled back into the snow. "You are dovahkiin, half dov and half vodov. The two have a ... difference in motivation that makes a dovahkiin's position difficult, and since you have been made immortal, it is far worse for you."

Yssha felt a bit of hope. "Please, fahdoni, tell me!"

"Very well." Paarthurnax hesitated."What do you know of immortality?"

That seemed like a non-response, but Yssha knew Paarthurnax well enough by now to be sure he was simply trying to make her think. "About as much as you know of mortality, fahdoni. In other words, almost nothing."

"I thought not." He gape-grinned. "Immortals are purposeless, kiir [child]. We simply ... live. And do our best to enjoy life, of course. We hunt, we hold tinvaak, we philosophise, we mate, we sing - the last not in a way vodov would appreciate, I fear.

"But vodovahhe require purpose, for some reason I cannot undestand. So all I can suggest is that you choose such a purpose, and pursue it."

That was ... staggering. Immortals had no purpose? "But ... Talos wants to restore the Empire, and are not Divines immortal by definition?"

"But like you, he was born mortal, and lived as such for slightly over a century," Paarthurnax pointed out. "It should be no surprise that he is still purpose-driven. That may be less true in a few thousand years."

That took Yssha aback. She was used to thinking in years, maybe decades, not centuries, and even less in millennia.

"You do have a purpose, you know," Odahviing said. "The purpose for which you chose immortality in the first place - preventing another Alduin from arising."

Paarthurnax shook his head. "That is a passive purpose, which she fills simply by existing. She needs an active purpose, something she must strive for."

"Well, I am restoring the Betrayed, as I find them," Yssha said. "But that is more of an incidental thing, since I can never be sure of finding them in a given place. Though Dwemer ruins do usually house some."

"Blackreach has a lot of them," Marcurio said. "We could always clear them out of there."

"What is Blackreach?" Paarthurnax asked.

"Legend says it was the Dwemer cavern that held its capital city. Divines know it's big enough!" Marcurio paused, thinking. "If I remember the name right, you might know it as Fal'Zhardum Din."

Paarthurnax nodded. "Fal'Zhardum Din, yes. It was a great place, once, I have been told. I have never visited it myself, of course. Their lifts were too small for dragons."

"You could always add Blackreach as a restoration project," Marcurio suggested. "It's far too big to do it all ourselves, but once the Betrayed have been restored, I'm sure they'd do most of the work. They're already starting to take the place of the Dwemer, so Blackreach could be their capital, as well."

"They do mostly prefer underground and dim lighting," Yssha said thoughtfully. "I do not like Blackreach myself, but yes, as the Odmer become more numerous, they will need a place to call their own, and form a government. Blackreach is probably suitable for that. Let us go talk to Gelebor at his Inner Sanctum."

"Then you are taking this as your current active purpose," Paarthurnax said, rather than asking. "You will have many changes in purpose as the years pass, you know."

"That has become clear," Yssha said, nodding. "And that there is no point in planning too far ahead, as change is inevitable."

With that decided, and feeling more energized, Yssha got Odahviing to fly them to the Inner Sanctum. Repairs of Vyrthur's destruction weren't complete, but were well under way.

Work stopped, though, when Odahviing landed in front of the Auri-El statue and she and Marcurio dismounted. What appeared to be a supervisor approached and bowed. "Dovahkiin - how may we serve you?"

"We would like to speak with Arch-Curate Gelebor, if he is available."

The Odmer smiled. "For you, any time. I believe he's in Auriel's Chapel. If you'll follow me?"

They did so, glad to see the frozen statues were all gone, replaced by depictions of Auri-El legends, dragons, and a statue of herself and her team. She was getting used to that sort of thing, so she wasn't more than a little embarrassed.

The Chapel itself, where they'd first seen Vyrthur, had had the ceiling rubble cleared, and mages were working on the new ceiling. The throne Vyrthur had been using was still there, but the spikes surrounding it were gone. Gelebor saw them, and smiled. "Dragonborn! It's wonderful to see you again. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Some information and perhaps advice, if you have time."

"As much as you wish. Come up to the balcony, if you would; it'll be easier to talk there." When she nodded, he led the way to the balcony where she'd killed Vyrthur. "Now, what is it?"

"I have been restoring your people as I find them, and they are integrating nicely into Winterhold and my own Skyhold - two of them have become dragonriders, and one is my Court Mage. But there are enough now that they should have their own place, and I know one that may serve. We call it Blackreach, but its Dwemer name was Fal'Zhardum Din. Do you know it?"

"Only by legend - a Dwemer city in a tremendous cavern full of glowing mushrooms and rocks, a ceiling that looks as full of stars as a Skyrim night - though those are probably more rocks or mushrooms."

"That is it. The temperature is moderate, by my standards - possibly warmer that your people prefer, but it should be tolerable. Since the Dwemer disappeared, it has been occupied primarily by Falmer - few above ground even know it exists - so the Odmer, once I restore them, will have the best claim by far. And it is resource-rich - it is even possible to mine soul gems there!"

"It sounds ... wonderful. What information do you need?"

"Whether you think the Odmer would care for it as a homeland, but I think you have already answered that." Yssha smiled. "It could be a large Hold of Skyrim, or a small province of the Empire."

"It's under Skyrim, so a Hold sounds more appropriate," Gelebor said "Though finding a Jarl may be difficult, since the Betrayed kept no relationship records, meaning that knowing who is descended from the Snow Prince is impossible."

Yssha studied him for a moment. "What about you?"

"I am Arch-Curate of the Chantry, my position as Knight-Paladin taken by one of the Restored. I cannot desert my duty."

Yssha studied him again, then felt a nudge, and smiled. "Even to take on a greater responsibility? Gelebor, you are the only Snow Elf who has actually experienced your culture. Who better to lead the Restored, who only know of it? And you will have help; Akatosh preserved a library of Snow Elf writings in Sightless Pit, close to the Alftand Great Lift down to Blackreach."

"Perhaps ... " He sighed. "You are persuasive, Dragonborn. Give me a day or so to pray for guidance about this, then I will answer you."

"Of course." She was pretty sure of the answer he would receive, though. "In the meantime, I shall return to Blackreach and try to find and restore more of the Betrayed."

"I think ... may I go with you? I should see what I might want to lead my fellow worshippers into."

Yssha nodded. "Odahviing can carry three easily, so yes. Shall we go?"

* * *

She decided to take him in through the Great Lift at Alftand, with a stop at Sightless Pit to show him the library in the Temple of Xrib on the way. At least this time they could go in through the abandoned cave's lift, rather than having to go through the entire cave system.

Corellon was in the Temple library, and greeted them. "Arch-Curate! You do us great honor. And Dovahkiin as well. What may I do for you?"

"I wished to show the Arch-Curate your library, before taking him to Blackreach," Yssha replied.

"And it's impressive indeed," Gelebor said, looking around. "Are all these unique, or do you have multiple copies?"

"All unique," Corellon replied. "Or so I believe, at least; since my Restoration, I've found no duplicates."

Yssha started to say that copies should be made, but Gelebor beat her to it. "You must begin copying them, then - it's a miracle of Auri-El these were preserved. If you don't have enough people to do it, I'm sure more will be found."

Corellon shook his head. "People aren't a problem, but we haven't the materials. Paper or parchment are rare down here, and quills nonexistent."

"That can be remedied easily enough," Yssha said. "I can provide adequate amounts of whatever you need, and you will be able to sell your copies to libraries throughout the Empire. I would like copies of any technical volumes myself, for a mechanically-inclined member of my Family."

Corellon smiled. "We will begin, then, as soon as we have the materials."

Yssha bowed. "I thank you. You will have them within days."

* * *

Taking the Alftand Great Lift down to Blackreach awed Gelebor, and the vista when they emerged awed him even more. Yssha watched him study the view, from the tall glowing mushrooms with tendrils trailing, to the ceiling's imitation of a starlit night.

There was silence for minutes, then he breathed, "It's beautiful. My people, I think, will love it. And you say it has many resources."

"It does indeed. It underlies three of Skyrim's Holds - the Pale, Hjaalmarch, and Winterhold, so for a cavern, it is tremendous. I know of one central city, and I believe the Falmer have constructed a number of villages."

Gelebor looked at her with a mixture of hope and fear. "How many can you restore at once?"

She looked at him sympathetically. "As many as can hear my Voice, it seems. But while four Greybeards can shake all of Skyrim, this one Khajiit is limited to her immediate vicinity. With dovah assistance, that might extend to the whole cavern, but as you have seen, the lifts are too small for a dragon."

"Watch out!" Marcurio shouted. "Chaurus!"

Yssha looked, and saw two heading for them. "Fus - Ro Dah!" That threw them back, and she drew her mace, wading in. She got one, Marcurio the other.

Then Gelebor spoke, in an oddly resonant voice. "Dark overlord fire."

"Huh?" Marcurio said. "What does that mean?"

Yssha frowned. "It sounds like a dragon name, but in Common, not Dovahzul. But what would a dovah be doing down here?"

"And how would it have gotten here?" Marcurio wanted to know.

"I know one way to find out," Yssha replied. "Vul ... Thur Yol!"

Moments later, they heard huge wings, and a voice. "Wo til?" [Who's there?]

"Zu'u Dovahkiin," Yssha replied. "Ahrk hin? [and you?] Drem yol lok!"

"Dovahkiin?" The dragon landed. "Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin. Zu'u Vulthuryol." He looked ... cautious? "Why are you here? Why a Dovahkiin, with all the dov but me slain?"

Yssha put her mace away. "To show Arch-Prelate Gelebor the place I think would make a good homeland for his people, the Odfahlille - which is now Odmer, in common. I have a Shout that restores them from Falmer."

Vulthuryol cocked his head, now looking confused. "A Dovahkiin who does not wish to kill me?"

"Only if I must, to protect myself or others." Yssha sighed. "I have prayed to all the Divines, most definitely including Bormahu, that I need never kill another of my kin, or even use Dragonrend, again."

"I am confused," Vulthuryol said. "How could you kill dragons, when I am the last?"

Yssha smiled. "Ah ... how long have you been down here?"

He shrugged. "How can I know? This place has neither sun nor seasons. Some years, I am reasonably sure, since I am fully healed of injuries that sent me into hibernation. It was during a huge war with the fahlille in black and gold that I was forced to use Become Ethereal and dive into the earth, hoping to avoid death. I was fortunate enough to emerge in this cavern and crash near a place I could conceal myself. More than that, I cannot say."

Some time during the First Great War, then," Marcurio said. "The second one's going on now, so you've missed about twenty-five years." He grinned. "So you've missed a lot. I won't go into great detail right now, but Alduin came back, resurrected Skyrim's dovahhe, Dovahkiin and I followed him into Sovngarde and along with the first Tongues, killed him. Almost as soon as we got back, Odahviing took her as thur, and almost all the rest have followed suit. Even Paarthurnax and his acolytes name her Dovahjud, though not thur."

Vulthuryol drew his head back. "A kaaz? Thur?"

"Geh," Yssha replied. "If you wish to test my Thu'um for yourself, I will do so, but you are the elder, so the choice is yours."

"Geh." Vulthuryol took a breath and seemed to hesitate, then roared, "Yol ... toor shul!"

Yssha bathed in the fire, having used Dragon Aspect herself as he Shouted. Then she replied. "Yol ... toor Shul!"

When her flame dissipated, Vulthuryol shuddered, then gape-grinned. "Dovajud indeed. Now I believe you could defeat Alduin, and definitely defeat me, thuri. Your Thu'um is powerful, though your volume is somewhat lacking. How may I serve you?"

"An experiment, if you would." She bowed politely. "Did you hear the Shout I used when I was here some time ago?"

"I am afraid not - I was hibernating until my name roused me, as nothing else could. What was it?"

"Sot Gein Daal."

He paused for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I ... understand, both Shout and intention. You wish to add my volume to your power. It is well, thuri. Come touch my jaw."

She did so, and they Shouted together, shaking ground and mushrooms. When that subsided, she smiled at her companions. "That should have done it."

"I will check - I can fly much faster than you can walk or run." Vulthuryol took wing, leaving them in a rush of wind. "I would have liked to go with him," Gelebor said wistfully.

Yssha shook her head. "Not so early," she said. "The idea of being ridden is still alien to him, and he has been my vahriin for bare minutes. Give him time to acclimate."

"I understand." The group waited patiently for the dovah's return.

Finally, he backwinged to a landing in front of them. "I have checked the furthest parts of this cavern, thuri, and I am pleased to report your experiment was a success. I saw many Odfahliille - krosis, Odmer - and none of those you call Falmer."

"Thank you!" Gelebor exclaimed. "Thank you very much, from me and my people!"

"A minor service for my thur." Vulthuryol shrugged, his attention going to Yssha. "Is there anything more, thuri?"

"Not for me, but if you return to the surface, do not harm joorre or their property. In turn, they will not harm you. And I would recommend tinvaak with Paarthurnax, Odahviing, or Dovgrahaak as soon as possible thereafter."

"I believe I will do that. I can always return here to see what happens." He took off again, heading for the ceiling, then Shouting.

Yssha turned to Gelebor when Vulthuryol was gone. "Are you ready to return?"

"To the surface, yes, but Whiterun before I return briefly to Forgotten Vale, if you don't mind. Auri-El answered my prayers for guidance almost as soon as the Great Lift got down here. Then we encountered the chaurus, and I was inspired to speak those words."

Yssha smiled. "We will visit High King Balgruuf, then. I am glad to hear it."


	37. A New Beginning

Chapter 37 - A New Beginning

They arrived at Dragonsreach just as Balgruuf was starting his afternoon audience, and he waved the trio forward, smiling. "Welcome, Ysmir, Thane Marcurio, and - who is your friend?"

Yssha bowed. "I have the honor of introducing Gelebor, the last known surviving Snow Elf before the restoration of the Betrayed. He is currently Arch-Curate of the Chantry of Auri-El in the Forgotten Vale."

Balgruuf smiled. "It's an honor, Arch-Curate Gelebor. I'm pleased to meet you."

Gelebor bowed. "And I you, High King Balgruuf."

Balgruuf's attention went back to Yssha. "Do you have a particular reason for bringing the Arch-Curate here now, Dragonborn, or just courtesy?"

Yssha smiled. "You know me too well, my King. Yes, I have a particular reason. The three of us went to Blackreach this morning, and with the aid of a dragon who escaped there from a Thalmor attack about 25 years ago, restored all the Falmer who have been living there since the disappearance of the Dwemer."

"Was that the cause of all the earthshake reports I got earlier? Did you expect that?"

Yssha's eartips warmed. "No, my King. My Voice alone does nothing like that, nor does any dovah's alone ... I thought it took the Greybeards in chorus. I apologize, and will not do it again."

Balgruuf chuckled. "I appreciate that, but if it becomes necessary, don't hesitate - Stormcrown." He gave her a stern look. "But go on."

"I ... well, Blackreach is now as tame as anywhere else in Skyrim, I suppose, since the Falmer were the worst threat there. I wonder if you might not want to make it a Hold of its own."

"Rather than parts of the current Holds it is beneath? Why?"

"Because it is so different, my King. I will gladly show you, if you wish. But it is a place of no sun, huge mushrooms, glowing rocks, crimson nirnroots, a great Dwemer city - perhaps the greatest - full of mysteries which need to be explored by people able to understand them after study. From the College of Winterhold, perhaps, or Nevan from my household, or Sorine Jurard from the Dawnguard. And soldiers and cartographers, of course, although once they get organized, the new Odmer inhabitants could provide those."

"And because my people need to re-establish their culture," Gelebor added. "They know it, since Auri-El included that in the Restoration Shout, but I'm the only one who's actually lived it. And it will have to be modified in some ways for current conditions."

Balgruuf nodded. "Yes, I can understand that. And that you'd like to do it without too much Nord influence."

"There will be some, of course," Gelebor said, "but yes, that should be kept to a minimum, at least at first."

"It is not as if it would be taking away something those holds currently have and use," Yssha pointed out. "Few people even know Blackreach exists. I would not, except for having had to go there to use the oculory in Tower Mzark to obtain the Elder Scroll I needed to learn Dragonrend."

"Which you needed to defeat Alduin." Balgruuf smiled. "Yes. Well, Idgrod won't care; she usually seems barely aware of anything outside her visions. I think Kraldar would be in favor of anything that helps Winterhold, and he's definitely pleased with his new Odmer citizens. Didn't he ask you to clear something called Sightless Pit, to get more?"

"Yes, my King. That is where we found a large library dating from the Times Before - before what, I do not know, since I have not had time to inspect it. I would suspect it means before the betrayal of the Falmer by the Dwemer, however."

"That leaves Brina of the Pale," Balgruuf said thoughtfully. "She cares about her Hold and people, though I have no idea how she feels about Odmer. I suppose she could be a problem."

"I doubt it," Yssha said. "She is a veteran Legion officer, you know, more concerned for the Empire's welfare than her personal glory. Eliminating the Falmer is a benefit to the Empire, and doing it the way Akatosh wishes, they require a homeland. Should I speak to her as Stormcrown, tell her so?"

"I'm her King, so it should come from me," Balgruuf replied "Though if she balks, I might ask you to talk to her." He paused. "Speaking of which, your calling me _your_ king isn't exactly accurate any more, you know. Stormcrown. It hasn't been since the Greybeards gave you that title."

Yssha nodded. "I find myself properly rebuked." The phrasing reminded her of her first meeting with Paarthurnax, when he'd taught her one word of Fire Breath, then told her to match his greeting, but had himself used all three. "May I still call you fahdoni?"

That made Balgruuf smile. "I don't think anyone could fault you for that, no. Rank is irrelevant to friendship, and we've known each other almost since your arrival in Skyrim."

Whatever Yssha was going to say next was interrupted by a dragon Call, by Fusmulgar, her Voice oddly throaty. "Od ... Ah Viing!" followed by the sound of wings.

"What in Oblivion!" Balgruuf exclaimed, standing.

Farengar ran out of his workshop and upstairs toward the Great Porch. Yssha was startled, then realized what was going on, and followed, Balgruuf and the rest following her in turn.

The two dragons were airborne, high above Dragonsreach, by the time they made it to the open end of the Great Porch. Balgruuf turned to Yssha. "Dragonborn?"

"This is a true mating flight," she said absently, watching as Fusmulgar had wished. "Not a sky-dance. She will lay an egg after this, to replace a permanently-dead dovah. She pleased Akatosh by her cooperation with Farengar, so He granted her this grace."

Not a sky-dance, Yssha thought, but it had its own different beauty. A single lengthy encounter, as long as a sky-dance with several different partners, ending when they separated and Fusmulgar Shouted triumphant fire into the sky and circled down to her tower.

"She's pregnant?" Farengar asked, as Balgruuf tried to shush him.

Yssha smiled. "Yes. And she will lay and nest in the Eastmarch hot pools, she said."

Odahviing landed on the Great Porch wall, looking ... smug, was the best description Yssha could come up with quickly. "It seems I owe you congratulations, vahriini."

He gape-grinned. "Not me, thuri, though I accept them. It is Fusmulgar who has earned praise, by doing something so difficult to one newly released from Alduin as cooperating with one who would experiment on a dovah."

Farengar seemed troubled at that. "She ... ah, she seemed willing, if not eager. And I tried not to hurt her."

"Bormahu knows, and honors you, as well, for that." Odahviing did his best to smile, but the effort wasn't very convincing. "Since she will be too clumsy then to carry a rider, I will take you to her when she is ready to lay. Bring gear for camping, if you wish to observe her brooding. It will be about a moon before she lays, then most of a year before the egg hatches."

"Thank you - I will. Should I take supplies?"

Odahviing rumbled a chuckle. "Nid ... I will hunt for her, and that will give you plenty of scraps. And if you need other things, I or another dovah can bring them."

When the excitement subsided and everyone had returned to their places, Balgruuf turned to Yssha. "I gather you think Gelebor should be Jarl?"

"If you do make Blackreach a Hold, yes. He is the only one of his people - as far as we know - who has experienced their culture. Granted, he has been isolated for some time, but he is intelligent and quick to learn."

"Very well," Balgruuf said. "By my power as High King of Skyrim, I declare Blackreach the eleventh Hold of Skyrim, and name Gelebor the Odmer its first Jarl." He smiled. "Be welcome in Dragonsreach any time, Jarl Gelebor."

Gelebor bowed gracefully. "Thank you, my King. By your leave, I should return to the Chantry of Auri-El, to find and install my replacement as Arch-Curate."

"You have leave," Balgruuf said. "How will you get there?"

"We will take him on Odahviing," Yssha replied. "After that, he will have a dragon team at his disposal, like the other Jarls." Still excepting Siddgeir, of course. Which, she admitted, didn't really displease her all that much, given how little she thought he deserved that rank.

* * *

Yssha had asked Odahviing to take them to Frozen Lake before going to the Inner Sanctum, so she could bring the twin dragons up to date. When he landed and his riders dismounted, she Called them.

"Naaslaarum! Voslaarum!"

Moments later, they erupted from the ice about a hundred yards away - Yssha and the rest were near the shore - and approached. "Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin," one said. "You have news for us?"

Yssha smiled. "Drem yol lok, Naaslaarum, Voslaarum. I do indeed, and I think it will please you. I have been Restoring your friends as I find them. It is much easier and more satisfying than having to fight them! Jarl Kraldar of Winterhold has welcomed a number of them there, where they are helping to rebuild the city. A few have moved into my own Skyhold, and two have become dragonriders in the Skyguard."

"That is certainly good news, though the thought of them riding dovahhe is a strange one indeed, even though we have seen ridden dragons in the distance a few times." The dragon cocked his head. "Who picks who is ridden, and who rides whom?"

"It is by mutual agreement," Yssha replied. "Although a dragon who is willing to carry riders will generally make the initial choice, a certain amount of rearranging is always going on."

"That is well, then."

"You didn't tell them all of it, dearling," Marcurio said, grinning.

"There is more?" the other one said.

"Yes - when we Restored the ones in Sightless Pit, we found a temple of Auri-El with a very well preserved library of Snow Elf writings from the Times Before. And this morning, with aid from Vulthuryol, we Restored all of those in Blackreach."

"Blackreach?"

"Fal'Zhardum Din," Gelebor said. When the twins nodded, he continued. "Thanks to the Dragonborn, High King Balgruuf has designated it a Hold, and named me its Jarl. It needs much work, but it gives the Odmer a homeland, as well as their settlements elsewhere."

"Truly, Dovahkiin," one of the twins said, "you have done more, and more quickly, than we thought possible. You have our thanks."

"It is the sort of thing I enjoy doing," she replied. "But we must take Gelebor to the Inner Sanctum so he can see about finding a new Arch-Curate."

The dovah shrugged. "This is clearly Bormahu's will, so there is probably somebody waiting."

"You could be right. He does seem in something of a hurry," Gelebor said. "I have never seen or heard of Him taking such an active role as he has done and is doing with Dovahkiin."

"He isn't the only one, either," Marcurio said. "Talos has spoken through her, and created shrines to her throughout Skyrim that are as effective at blessings as those to the Divines."

"'Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal,'" Gelebor quoted. "'Dragonborn, for your blessings we pray.' Yes, there's one at the spot where she Restored Marcurio and Nevan. It's used often."

"Also a temple on Solstheim, if it's been cleansed and reconsecrated yet. With her very own Dragon Priestess." Marcurio chuckled. "That's mostly to distract the folks who insist on worshipping her, though, and keep them out from underfoot."

"Well, let's get back to the Inner Sanctum and see what Auri-El has in store," Gelebor said, chuckling as well.

When they landed, they saw an Odmer woman in priestly robes waiting for them at the foot of the statue. When they approached her, Yssha smiled. "Serana! It is good to see you again."

The Odmer returned her smile, bowing. "And you, Dovahkiin." She turned to Gelebor, bowing again. "I was informed that you have a new title, Jarl Gelebor, and that I am to take your place here, at least temporarily."

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Arch-Curate. You might want to send a messenger to Sightless Pit, and have him ask Prelate Corellon about any books relating to the Chantry. He has a full library, and will begin copying it as soon as Dovahkiin gets him the materials."

He smiled. "You may also tell those who wish to leave the Chantry that they're welcome in Winterhold, Skyhold, and Fal'Zhardum Din, which is now called Blackreach, and is our new homeland."

The priestess looked stunned. "This is ... astonishing. Almost like the times when ... between the Dawn and Merethic Eras, when things were changing almost too fast for mortals to comprehend."

"It is, isn't it?" Gelebor nodded thoughtfully. "But it's the time of the Last Dragonborn, so perhaps turmoil is inevitable. And only the Divines know what will happen from here on."

* * *

Author's Note: ADVANCE WARNING: In approximately ten chapters, this story's rating will change to M. I don't want to post spoilers, so all I'll say is that it has to do with Thalmor activity. It will still be mostly T, but there will be more intense parts I'd rather rate M to be safe.


	38. A New Team

Chapter 38 - A New Team

It was good to have the whole family around the table for breakfast again, Yssha thought. Nevan and Serana had gotten home about mid-afternoon yesterday, and they'd spent the rest of the day exchanging news and stories. Now, not at all to her surprise, Nevan wanted to show Sorine Jurard the library at Sightless Pit, then visit the Dwemer city in Blackreach, now that it could be explored without having to fight Falmer at regular intervals.

That was in her interest as well, since she still wanted smokeless heat for cold weather and what Nevan called air conditioning for hot, but she also ought to go check with Ralis on the Kolbjorn Barrow dig, and she wanted to smith some Daedric armor for Marcurio - to her surprise, she'd discovered that it actually offered better protection than dragonplate. Her and the others' dragonscale was still the best light armor available, though.

At least she had enough Daedra hearts to make a complete set, so she wouldn't have to make a trip to Enthir at the College of Winterhold. She occasionally found those elsewhere, but somehow Enthir had a reliable source of supply for both the hearts and black soul gems, so she bought both any time she was in the vicinity.

She started on the armor while Nevan gave Freyr and his friends from Pinewatch a weaponry lesson, then Ahkrinbo gave all but her a lesson in Dovahzul. The dragons and Dragonborn, everyone knew, preferred it to Common, so it was becoming a status marker to know and use at least a few words. For vodovahhe, fluency was still rare, but she was sure it would become more common in time.

She didn't really want to separate from Nev and Serana again so soon, but she also didn't have the heart to keep him from his research, so after lunch, she called Odahviing. "Nevan and Serana will be making several stops, including picking up writing supplies and two researchers, so do you have anyone available willing to carry them?"

"Of course. Carrying any of our Family is considered a great honor, so ... hmm. Britdunkah is young, barely a thousand, but a worthy fighter and pleasing skydancer." He called her and gave her the assignment, then asked, "And you, thuri? Where are we bound?"

"Marcurio and I will go to Kolbjorn Barrow to see what my partner there has found," she said.

"Very well. Mount, and we go."

* * *

Ralis was at the table beside his tent when Odahviing landed and the two dismounted. "Oh, it's you."

Yssha frowned. "You sound unhappy. What is going on?"

Ralis grimaced. "We only got a little ways in when something managed to wake up the draugr. Before I could blink, all the miners were dead and I was next in line. Don't think anyone else made it out alive. This is what I get for skimping on labor."

"I gather you wish us to deal with the draugr."

He nodded. "Unless you do, this whole little venture of ours is over. Might be over either way. It looked like a dead end before the place started crawling. We could have missed something, though. I don't know."

"We will be back as soon as we have done so." Yssha led the way into the barrow, mace and Fire Breath at the ready. Unrelenting Force was good, but against skeletons and draugr, fire was more effective.

The entry tunnel was no problem, but they heard draugr ahead, and they were attacked almost as soon as they entered the first real chamber. The attackers included by a Deathlord using Unrelenting Force that knocked the breath out of her for a couple of seconds, then she Shouted fire at it, sending it up in smoke. The rest were weaker, and didn't take them long to defeat. Once that was accomplished, they examined the entrance chamber, finding some small treasure. Once that was cleaned out, Yssha examined an odd, engraved skull on a pressure plate atop an altar. She found no traps, so she cautiously picked it up.

That opened a door ahead of them, and they could see a pair of boots on a platform in front of a column. Marcurio examined them, then nodded. "Ahzidal's Boots of Waterwalking."

"Bring them along," Yssha suggested. "I do not care to leave something so valuable unguarded around miners who might be tempted to take and sell them."

"You don't think you should leave them with Ralis?"

"I think not, beloved. I know our security; I do not know his, but he certainly cannot stay awake all the time."

"I see what you mean." Marcurio stowed the boots in his pack, and they went to report.

When Ralis saw them, he asked, "Any luck?"

Yssha nodded. "The draugr were very little problem, and we were able to find a way deeper into the barrow."

"Well, perhaps there's some hope for us yet." Ralis managed a smile. "Now, I'll have to go recruit some more miners ... it won't be easy, seeing as none of their friends came back from the first attempt. We'll have to sweeten the pot a bit, this time. I think I'll need ... say, two thousand septims to hire replacements."

"That is manageable," Yssha said, handing him the coin.

"I never get tired of that sound. It'll take me a few days to dig up some more laborers, but swing back when you get a chance. See how we're doing."

"Send a courier when you have news, please."

"I'll do that - partner."

* * *

Nevan and Serana were still gone when Yssha and Marcurio returned, so she went back to work on the Daedric armor. By the time Rayya called her for supper, the cuirass was done and ready to enchant, and the helmet was half done.

Everybody else was at the table by the time she took the cuirass up to the enchantry to drop it off, and Marcurio was telling the rest about their day. " ... just a routine barrow run, yeah. No major surprises, which was a pleasant change. What about you two?"

"We picked up Sorine and Calcelmo," Nevan said. "I was afraid Calcelmo was going to have a stroke when he saw the temple and library, and again when we got to Blackreach's central city - hells, _I_ almost did, myself, there! It's incredible - almost undamaged, probably thanks to being in a cavern. It'll take days to map just the city, probably years to map the whole Hold. We're going to try to get permission to use one of the buildings as a research center - lab, library, whatever we need."

Yssha studied him, a bit bemused. "You would prefer that to adventuring?"

Nevan looked like he didn't really want to answer, but he nodded. "Don't get me wrong, please. I've enjoyed the adventuring, especially since I thought that was the only thing I'd be any good for in this universe. I never bothered mentioning my other skills, because they seemed useless."

"So what are these skills?" Marcurio asked curiously.

"First, you have to remember I'm - I _was_ \- an Imperial military officer, which means I had to be well-educated. A graduate of the Imperial Military Academy, which I am, has to have three doctorates, at least one of which has to be in a field that's useful in establishing a colony. For me, that's agriculture, but at a tech level this universe isn't even close to. Useless skill number two is galactography. Number three is my personal-interest one, and that's actually useful now - archaeology, with a minor in historiography." He smiled at the blank looks. "Even trying to define galactography would be meaningless here, given what I know of your cosmology. Archeology you know, and Calcelmo is a historiographer specializing in the Dwemer."

"I ... see," Yssha said slowly. "I will not keep you from what you want to do, of course. But may I still call on you for special things where your strength and combat skills are necessary, or at least likely to be helpful?"

Nevan looked upset at the question. "Of course, thuri - I'd be hurt if you didn't. I swore to you voluntarily, and that hasn't changed. I'd still be here most evenings, and teach the kids in the mornings, though I may be late sometimes; time is hard to tell, underground, and your clocks are limited at best."

Yssha smiled gently. "Then feel free to enjoy your archeology and historiography, vahriini. And I would like it if you would inform me of any particularly interesting discoveries."

"Of course, thuri!" Nevan grinned. "And thanks. I do feel a bit guilty, since I know you like having a full team, but I'm sure you'll be able to find another spell-sword to watch your back."

"And mage, of course," Serana added.

"That goes without saying," Yssha agreed. "I would expect you to stay with Nevan." It would seem strange adventuring with someone else on more than a temporary basis, but next time she saw her honorary uncles, she could ask them if they'd be interested.

* * *

Over the next few days, she finished smithing and enchanting Marcurio's new armor, and she smiled when he first put it on. He looked good in whatever he wore, but in Daedric armor he was positively imposing as well.

She hadn't seen or heard anything from Andreius and Sorcalin by the time another courier arrived, which was rather disappointing. "Another note from your friend Ralis," the courier said, handing it over. "I hope everything is all right."

Well, last time hadn't been too bad, even with just her and Marcurio, so Yssha called Odahviing. When they got to the barrow and found Ralis, he was unhappy again. "And now you're back. Great, just great."

"Your note was not very informative," she said. "What is it this time?"

"Draugr again. I mean ... we should have expected it, right? What else do you find in these damn crypts, but waves and waves of draugr? At least six of the diggers are dead. The rest of them ran off, and I don't blame them. You've had some luck with these things before. Do you think you could... go back in? See if anyone's still alive?"

"Certainly." That was the bargain, after all ... more or less. And Ralis himself certainly couldn't do it. So she and Marcurio went back in.

Yes, there were more draugr, along with a number of dead miners, some minor loot, and one of Ahzidal's enchanted rings - a necromantic enchantment that might help Serana.

Back to Ralis to report. "We cleared the draugr, but I fear the miners that were missing did not make it - we found their bodies, as well."

His reply was disgusted. "I should have figured. Damn. Well, at least we can get back to work. But hazard pay keeps piling up, and this won't be getting any cheaper. I'm going to hire some mercenaries this time, too. Having some people around who know how to fight should... Well, it'll set the miners at ease. And hopefully keep them alive. But they won't be cheap either. It's going to hit three thousand this time, I'm afraid. Have you got that on you?"

She nodded and handed him the money, adding, "This is becoming expensive. I hope it will prove worth the cost."

"We're going to be making this back fifty-fold, partner. Trust me on this. I'll go hire a new crew, and some brawny types to keep them safe. Come back and check in on us. Nothing can stop us this time."

"I hope you are correct. Send a courier as usual if you need us."

They moved away from the camp, but as Yssha was getting ready to call Odahviing, Marcurio stopped her. "I don't know about you, dearling, but I've been spoiled - I don't like going into places like that at what's gotten to be half strength. And they get worse the deeper we go. I think we ought to pick up reinforcements."

"I agree, beloved. I was thinking about asking Andreius and Sorcalin if they would be interested, the next time we see them."

"Why wait? Judging from past performance, we've got a few days before Ralis calls us again - I'd say use that time to find them."

"The way they like to travel, that could be a challenge, but I agree again. It is early enough we can go to Castle Dour and see if they are still there."

* * *

They weren't, but they'd told Captain Aldis that they intended to go to Markarth, then Whiterun, so Odahviing flew relatively low and slowly along the road to Markarth. Nothing there, so he changed course for Whiterun. About halfway there, he saw an Imperial and an Altmer riding, and circled to identify them. When he did, he landed about a hundred feet ahead, with Kyne's Peace ready in case the horses spooked.

Yssha and Marcurio dismounted and approached the other two, who'd stopped and were dismounting themselves. When they were within conversational distance, Andreius grinned. "What's up important enough to come looking for us, kiddo?"

Yssha smiled. "Nevan and Serana have decided on a change of career, so I would like you two to become a permanent part of my team, if you would be interested."

The two she was addressing looked puzzled. "A new career?" Sorcalin asked. "What would that be?"

"Archaeologist and Dwemer researcher," Marcurio replied. "His education in his original plane is mostly useless here, but he did study archaeology and historiography for enjoyment. Between the library in the Sightless Pit temple, and Blackreach having all its Falmer Restored, he wants to use his education, not just his combat skills."

"And we have become accustomed to working as a four-person team," Yssha added. "It no longer feels right with only two."

Andreius and Sorcalin exchanged glances, then Andreius said, "We can't promise anything long-term just yet, but we'll try it out for a while, at least. Do you have room for us at your home?"

Yssha chuckle-purred. "Easily. When Rayya planned Lakeview Manor, she added several guest rooms. Or I have homes elsewhere you are welcome to use."

"Collecting houses, are you?" Sorcalin said with a grin.

"Only three deliberately, one of which I no longer own. Lakeview, because I prefer living in the country, and Windstad Manor, which is under construction so I can get my rather noisy and smelly smithing and alchemy out of Lakeview. The rest were gifts after we killed Alduin, and the palace my vahriinne insisted on in Helgen."

Sorcalin shook his head, chuckling. "It's hard to imagine that, youngster. You, of all people, tolerating a palace and throne."

"It was not by my choice, I assure you," Yssha said with a sigh. "But I must admit the Mirmulnir Throne is most attractive."

"Mirmulnir?" Andreius asked. "Does that mean something?"

"It was the name of the first dragon I killed. It means Allegiance Strong Hunt. His death taught me I am Dovahkiin - Dragonborn as a title, Dragon Hunter Born as a name - and that I can Shout." That made her think, and she continued. "Well, actually, anyone willing to put in the time and effort can learn to Shout. I just learn Shouts with no effort, and use them naturally."

"You mean we could learn it?" Andreius asked. "Seriously?"

"Yes, certainly. You should learn Dovahzul, the dragon language, first, because to Shout, you must be able to think in our language."

"We'll meet you at Lakeview," Andreius told her. "And start learning Dovahzul as soon as we can."


	39. Forelhost

Chapter 39 - Forelhost

Yssha had stopped by High Hrothgar on the way home to get another Word Wall location from Arngeir, and he'd again given her three - Forelhost, Hag's End, and Rannveig's Fast. Not having anything but the locations made it difficult to choose, so the order he'd given them to her would be as good as any.

Andreius and Sorcalin arrived in time for lunch the day after they'd met between Markarth and Whiterun. That afternoon was spent getting them settled in, showing them around the estate, introducing them to Ahkrinbo and his team, and a quick trip to Helgen to let them see her palace.

The palace and the outside throne in its pavilion got admiration from both of them. "That's impressive," Andreius said. "Kind of ... um, excessive, too, though."

"Not really," Odahviing said. "It is the absolute minimum we will accept for her. She should have something even finer that the White Gold Tower, but she absolutely refuses."

"As I refuse to be confined to a palace," Yssha said. "At least they understand that much."

"Of course," Odahviing said. "Dov must be free to fly. One who is confined for too long, as Numinex was, will suffer the same fate. Paarthurnax fared astonishingly well, given the long isolation of his watch for Alduin's return."

"And he is recovering nicely," Yssha said. "His scales have regained their sheen, so he looks almost silver now, rather than shabby gray. And his chin spike is almost fully regrown."

"Well, we can certainly understand the need to be free," Andreius said. He chuckled. "Ysshaya, Yssha, and I were all prisoners at the beginning of our adventuring careers. Ysshaya and I were both released by order of Emperor Uriel Septim VII, back in the Third Era. Yssha had to escape from her execution, while the town was being destroyed around her."

"That is true. And she has done an excellent job of rebuilding, we think."

The two looked around. "Yes - this is actually one of the nicest cities I've been in. Clean, and no privy stink. Even Whiterun still has a little bit of that."

Yssha smiled. "Whiterun was not built with a sewage system from the beginning, as Helgen was. I am sure that in time, it will lose the residual smell."

"Probably so." Andreius grinned. "Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?"

"If you are rested enough from your journey," Yssha said. "If not, it can easily be put off for another day."

"We'll be fine," Andreius said. "We stayed in Whiterun overnight, and it's only a short trip from there to Lakeview. Then here and back to Lakeview by dragon isn't tiring at all."

"In that case, Master Arngeir has told me of some Word Walls, and I would like to find the one at Forelhost."

"Word Walls - those huge monuments scattered around Skyrim. We learn Shouts from those, right?"

"Ah ... not exactly. I learn from them, yes, but you will have to do it the hard way, through study and meditation, as the Greybeards and other vodov do."

Andreius shrugged, grinning. "And we have to learn Dovahzul first. You didn't?"

"No. I got my first Rotmulaag - word of power - in Bleak Falls Barrow, then gained understanding when I killed Mirmulnir and absorbed his soul. I did not precisely learn Dovahzul ... dragons are born with that knowledge. But I did not grow up using it, so I had to be reminded by seeing or hearing the words."

"Just from curiosity," Sorcalin said, "what Word was that?"

"'Fus', which means 'force'," Yssha said. "It is the first word of the Unrelenting Force Shout, which you saw me use on the way to Sightless Pit. The Greybeards gave me the other two, and shared their understanding with me."

"And the other Shout, the fire one?"

"Fire Breath, which Paarthurnax taught me so I could greet him as a dovah."

"What are some of the others you know?" Andreius asked.

"Completely?" When he nodded, she continued. "Bend Will, Throw Voice, Restore Falmer, Marked for Death, the Call of Valor I was given in Sovngarde after defeating Alduin, Battle Fury, Clear Skies, Dragon Aspect, Resurrect Dragon, and of course Dragonrend - which I pray I never again have to use." She hesitated. "And a large number of dragon names, of course."

"And you have others you don't know all the words of, right?"

"Correct. Some I do not particularly care about, but I would very much like to learn the last word of Become Ethereal."

"You can't just go to them?"

"I wish it were so easy! No, many Wall locations have been lost, and others are so weatherbeaten the Words are practically unreadable - they would be unusable except for the magic imbued in them at their creation. The same magic that lets me hear any that hold a Word I do not yet know."

"So it's purely random what you'll find."

"Unfortunately, yes. Hopefully, what we find at Forelhost will be useful."

* * *

Forelhost was a ruined Nordic fortress southeast of Riften. It took some climbing to get there, but there were no real obstacles to entry, or in the entry hall, but then there was a swinging blade trap. "I will take this," Yssha said. "There is normally an off switch on the far side."

"Are you sure?" Sorcalin asked. "I can go through, then heal faster than anyone else here."

"I will not be hurt," Yssha said, smiling. "I will shut the blades off as soon as I rematerialize. Feim!"

She strolled past the blades, then waited until she was solid again to pull the chain that stopped the blades.

When the rest joined her, Sorcalin grinned. "Become Ethereal?"

Yssha smiled. "Yes. You can see why I wish to find the rest of it!"

"We certainly can," Andreius said. "Will it get you through barriers as well?"

"Not with only one Word," Yssha said. "With more, I do not know. Let us continue." The direct route Pathfinder showed them was blocked by a portcullis with no control visible, so they had to take an alternate route, where they ended up fighting ghosts, later joined by draugr - routine foes.

The next thing they found was a large room with a journal dating from the early First Era, by an officer in King Harald's army named Skorm Snow-Strider. It began with him and his men chasing Snow Elves, but then they encountered and began a siege of Dragon Cultists here in Forelhost. After a three-week siege with, apparently, conventional siege engines, they sent for a "Voice master" who brought down the main gate, but took an arrow in the throat in the process.

When they finally breached the last defenses, they found all the cultists dead, with either slit wrists or nearby poison vials, clearly suicide. The next day, they found why the number of unmarked dead and the number of poison vials didn't match - and lost half their force in the discovery that the cultists had poisoned their own water supply. The journal ended with the soldiers withdrawing, and Skorm leaving it as a warning to anyone who followed him.

"Dragon Cultists, huh?" Marcurio said. "So that's who those ghosts were."

The next area was a typical niche-lined Nordic crypt, the exit from which was a stairway down a well. Unfortunately, the well was enclosed by a cage with a rather elaborate lock. Well, Yssha thought, she had plenty of lockpicks, and plenty of time, as well. She dug out her picks and went to work.

Andreius chuckled. "You look like you've had a lot of experience at that."

"Quite a bit, yes," Yssha said absently, continuing her probing of the lock. "In case you are unaware, I am Master of the Thieves Guild."

"That's something else the three of us have in common. Or I was, until I left Morrowind. Any others?"

"Not any longer - I stepped down as Archmage of the College and Harbinger of the Companions. - There." The lock clicked open, and they went down the stairs.

There were more draugr in the next room they came to, which looked like a dining room - including some archers on a balcony, which the team took out with a Shout and several spells. The exit here was one of the spear-doors she thought a bit silly, but taking a crystal claw off a pressure plate opened that. A claw meant a puzzle door later, with something particularly nasty behind it. She didn't know how many Nordic ruins Andreius and Sorcalin had been through, so she cautioned them about that, adding, "Considering the cultists, I would not be surprised to find a Dragon Priest, the worst kind of draugr. And those have a nasty habit of teleporting during combat, which is both annoying and dangerous."

"I hate that myself," Andreius said. "Do you have a Shout that's particularly effective?"

"The most effective indoor one against them is Marked for Death - it drains health and weakens armor. But ... let me check something first. I have a power called Companions Insight, which protects those with me, but I like to check with a lesser Shout before I use something like Marked for Death or Storm Call with someone new around."

Andreius braced himself. "Go ahead."

"Disarm is the least harmful in itself, so - Zuun!"

She and Andreius both smiled when his sword remained firmly in his hand. "Good, then I can safely use the stronger ones around you. Marked for Death it is."

The puzzle door was standard, its symbols corresponding with the ones on the claw, and it slid down with the usual grating noise. "Oh, stay out of the middle of the room; that is usually the most dangerous spot."

As she circled around, she glanced at the floor, saw a circular groove, and glanced up at the ceiling. "Yes, a spike trap."

They cautiously approached a large sarcophagus in front of an iron door, with two smaller ones on each side. Nothing happened until they reached the top of the steps leading to the sarcophagi, and all five burst open. "Krii Lun Aus!" Yssha Shouted at the Dragon Priest.

He staggered briefly, throwing her back with Unrelenting Force, then started hitting her with fire spells. She warded herself, using Marked for Death as often as she could, meanwhile trying to close in with her mace. Someone was helping her by casting ice spears, which cut that fight shorter than she'd expected. She took a few seconds to cast Fast Healing on herself, then began concentrating on one of the lesser draugr.

When the last one fell, she went to the ash pile that had been the Dragon Priest, to retrieve his mask and staff. He also had a key, which opened the door behind his sarcophagus. That in turn opened to a balcony above the courtyard where they'd entered Forelhost, and she heard the chanting of a Word Wall off to her right. "There is the sound I mentioned from a Word Wall I have not used."

Andreius shook his head. "I don't hear anything. Sor?"

"Nothing - and if it's magic attuned to dragons, I wouldn't, even shifted."

The three followed her to the wall, where anyone could see the Word glow and move into her. "It is Qo, or Lightning, the third word of Storm Call." She grimaced. "That is one I will use only if I have no choice."

Sorcalin laughed. "Kitty doesn't like getting wet, hm?"

She stuck out her tongue and made a spitting sound at him. "You know I hate it! And wet fur under armor is ... but you need not wear armor over your fur, when you have it, so you would not know."

"What's the Wall say, dearling?" Marcurio asked.

"It is dim, but I am fairly sure it translates as, "This stone commemorates the villagers of doomed Vundeheim, burned alive by the Lightning of Unending Sorrow."

"Would any of these memorials be for someone non-human?" Sorcalin asked curiously.

"Oh, certainly," Yssha replied. "Two of the Animal Allegiance walls commemmorate Sarvirra, a horse, and Ulfeidr, a she-wolf. There may be others I do not remember offhand."

"That's nice." Sorcalin smiled. "Why, I don't know, because it doesn't affect me, but I'm still glad of it."

* * *

At home that night, Yssha snuggled beside Marcurio, listening to his occasional soft snores, but nowhere near sleep herself. For some reason, she was more worried than usual about what Bormah, some time ago, had said about her final tempering. The idea frightened her, but she'd been reluctant to mention it to anyone else, if only because she had no idea what it would involve.

She still didn't, but ... should she mention it anyway? Divines knew she didn't want to, with no idea what to warn them against, but if she didn't, mightn't they try to interfere in something she knew she had to endure, even though she didn't know what it would be?

She disciplined herself enough not to toss and turn, so she wouldn't disturb Marcurio's rest, but her thoughts churned in circles. Say nothing, and leave them in peace, but maybe try to interfere with what Bormah thought necessary, or tell them, and have them share her unease?

The dragons and Nevan were no problem. They were sworn to her, and would obey her without question. Serana would most likely go along with Nevan. Marcurio was entirely different, as were Andreius and Sorcalin, not to mention Grams and Titus Mede II. Though as co-Sovereign, he probably would go along with her.

It was almost time to get up before she came to a decision. She had to tell at least her family.


	40. The Discussion

Chapter 40 - The Discussion

Although Yssha had decided she should tell at least her family about her "final tempering", she was in no hurry to do so. In part, that was because she wasn't sure of the best way to do it, individually or in a group, or even exactly who to tell. Family Marcurio certainly, Grams, Andreius and Sorcalin - yes, the Emperor as well, and perhaps the Crown Prince and Franken. Anyone else?

She thought not. It was hard enough to reveal her weakness to even so few. Or was it a weakness, that Bormah Akatosh wished to temper her, make her stronger? Part of the problem was that she knew so little, and they were sure to have questions she couldn't answer.

She finally decided on a group, but that meant a meeting at the White Gold Tower. She found paper and a pen, to write a letter requesting the meeting.

* * *

Two days later, the ones she'd specified were gathered around a conference table in a well-warded conference room in the White Gold Tower. When everyone was settled, she stood. "Thank you all for coming. I asked for this meeting to warn you of something I know is coming - but I caution you I know little other than that." She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "The Father of Dragons has let me know that at some point, I will be given a final tempering. I do not know when, though since I become uneasy whenever I think about the end of our current war, I suspect it will involve that, somehow. I also do not know what it will involve."

"That ... isn't very helpful," the Emperor said. "You warn us of an unknown event at an unknown time - why?"

"Because Bormah says it is necessary for me, and I believe you would try to stop it if I did not warn you."

"You're damn right we would," Grams said. "But isn't there anything we can do to help?"

"Not until the end." Yssha looked at her honorary uncles. "The only other thing I was told is that Sorcalin has a vital role to play at its climax. So I am guessing there will be some sort of sign when it is safe for any of you to act."

"And no way to prepare in advance, since we have no idea what's going to be involved." The Emperor sighed. "So we just keep doing what we're doing until whatever 'it' is happens."

Yssha nodded. "The Legion and Skyguard keep fighting the war, Nevan and Serana continue their researches, my team and I continue to collect Shouts and harmful Daedric artifacts. And all of us ... wait. I am sorry I can tell you no more."

"So am I," the Emperor said. "But we won't interfere until this sign you mention appears."

* * *

Yssha had hoped the meeting would be the end of it, but when they got home, there were more questions, starting with Marcurio asking, "Why didn't you tell us earlier, love?"

She shrugged. "Why make you worry as well, when it is both unavoidable and necessary? I would not have mentioned it now, except for the possibility that you might disrupt what must happen, in an attempt to spare me."

"Of course we would, dearling." Marcurio sighed. "All right, I think I understand. I don't like it, but I understand."

"Thank you." Yssha sighed."I do not like the prospect either, and I am quite sure it will be most unpleasant, particularly since this war is against the Thalmor, and they hate me to begin with."

Andreius sighed. "So if we're basically waiting around for the Thalmor to act against you, what's next on the adventuring front?"

"I have two more Word Wall locations, and I expect a courier from Solstheim about the Kolbjorn Barrow dig any time now. Would you have any preference?"

"Two Nordic ruins and a barrow you've already been to twice. Huh." Andreius thought briefly. "I'd say finish up the Kolbjorn one, then go after Shouts. And you can teach us Dovahzul as we go."

"All right, then we wait for the courier. We can start with the basics - the words you will proably hear most, 'geh' which is 'yes' and 'thuri' which is 'my overlord'. Without the 'i' it is simply 'overlord'." She went on to give them a few more basic words and grammar, then said, "We will use it as much as possible."

"Geh, thuri."

Yssha chuckle-purred. "Nid. Zu'u los ni hin thur. Use one of my names instead."

"Ah, 'I am not your overlord - ?' Sorcalin said. "Or you might have left out the 'los' as not strictly necessary."

"Geh. The dov and Nevan have sworn to me, so they are my vahriinne. You are not."

"Sworn ... ah, plural?" Andreius asked. "So the Common equivalent is "sworn ones."

"Geh - pruzah!"

"You ... ah, hin ... didn't teach us 'pruzah', but from context, it means 'good'" Sorcalin half-asked.

"Geh!"

The lesson continued, Yssha gradually increasing their vocabulary. She was pleasantly surprised at how much progress they'd made when a knock on the door interrupted them and she answered the door, to find a courier outside. He handed her a letter. "Another letter from Ralis. He's starting to scare me a little."

"Thank you. Would you care for refreshments?"

"Some wine and a chance to use a bathroom would be nice," the courier replied.

Yssha stepped back so he could enter. "You have been here often enough to know where both are - feel free."

"Thanks." He grinned, heading for the guest bath.

Andreius chuckled. "Not many people pay that much attention to a courier's comfort."

Yssha shrugged. "In his place, I would appreciate the break, and it costs me nothing. I usually tip them, as well. Shall we armor and arm ourselves, and go to Solstheim? I am fairly certain Ralis has run into more draugr, but why he scares the courier, I do not know."

* * *

When they landed near the barrow and approached Ralis, he sighed. "Oh... I was hoping I wouldn't see you quite so soon."

"I see at least some of the current miners are still alive. I am hoping this means things are going better."

"Yes, well, the mercenaries did their jobs. Worth every septim. Of course, they might disagree ... the dead ones, anyway. Gods, what a disaster. I feel like we've done this before, but that just means we're getting good at it. You go make the draugr dead again, and I'll keep the rest of these n'wahs from running off."

When they were out of earshot, Yssha grumbled, "This is getting old. When I first agreed to it, I did not think it would take so long, or be so costly in either gold or other peoples' lives. But I do not feel I should stop now, and let that all go to waste."

"Well, I wouldn't let it go too much further," Andreius said.

"Keep going until you have all of Ahzidal's equipment," Marcurio put in. "I've been researching, and if you have four or more pieces on all at once, it's like a Fortify Enchanting potion - without the time limits on a potion."

"Which would benefit me, yes, but not those killed."

"Maybe those you enchant for will live longer, though," Marcurio said gently, then he turned to Andreius. "How long does it take to start thinking really long-term? Like immortal level?"

That got a thoughtful frown. "To be honest, I'm not sure I've quite learned it even yet. Or if I'm even capable of learning it. But ... you do have a point." Then his frown turned to a scowl. "To be even more honest, bluntly so, I'm not sure I've even accepted being immortal, nor am I sure I like it."

Yssha couldn't help a chuckle. "Then we are in the same boat, uncle. I was speaking to Paarthurnax on that subject a few days ago, and it seems there is a difference between those created immortal and those who achieve it later."

"And what's that?"

"He says those born immortal do not require a purpose, but those born mortal do. If a mortal somehow becomes immortal, it takes time to lose that need for a purpose."

Andreius chuckled. "That sounds like an over-generalization to me - maybe the difference between dov and, uh, vodov, instead? Since as far as I know, only the dov are created or born immortal, here in Mundus."

"That could be," Yssha agreed. "Mer - fahlille - are long-lived, but certainly not immortal."

"We have a long _potential_ lifespan," Sorcalin said. "As Barenziah said, the Divines give mer a thousand years, but very few make it even half that. We're just as susceptible to steel, spells, and disease as those with hundred-year spans - I'm lucky to have made it past two hundred."

She smiled at that. "Well, shall we see if we can add another day to that? So far, we have encountered only draugr, but Marcurio says Ahzidal was a Dragon Priest, so be prepared."

"If we get that far today," Marcurio said. "The way this barrow's going, I don't expect to."

"We certainly will not do so out here," Yssha said with a grin, leading the way into the barrow. They ran into a couple of draugr almost immediately, dealing with them handily. As they continued, they encountered more draugr, as well as dead miners and guards, then found a chamber that held some strange white spiders - not as bad as the frostbite variety, but still dangerous.

At least the miners had managed to excavate the ash from the large chamber where they'd found the boots on her and Marcurio's first trip inside, and there was scaffolding leading to the real floor. As they explored that, she heard a very familiar chanting near one spot, and she exclaimed, "There is a Word Wall here!"

To her frustration, she couldn't get to it, but as they continued to explore and fight, they did find Ahzidal's Gauntlets of Warding, and a ring on a plinth behind a barred door, with some sort of pressure plate puzzle in front of it. "Does anyone know Teleportation?" she asked. "I am becoming impatient with this place, and do not care to bother with this puzzle."

"I've got it," Andreius said, chuckling. He gestured, and the ring floated out between the bars, to hover in front of her. He gave her a courtly bow. "At your service, honored Dovahkiin!"

She made a face at him, taking the ring. "You have my thanks, oh great Nerevarine!"

Marcurio and Sorcalin both laughed at that. "If you two are done complimenting each other," the Altmer said sarcastically, "let me cast Detect Undead and see if we can get out of here yet."

He did so, and shook his head. "Not quite yet, but there are only a couple left. Let's go get 'em."

Several dead miners and mercenaries, three draugr, and a swinging blade trap later, he cast it again, and this time nodded. "That's it. I guess it's back to your so-called partner."

They headed back for the surface, stopping to pick up some loot they'd bypassed earlier. She wasn't sure Marcurio would want to send his porters here, even once the place was cleared, since Ralis said it was getting a very bad reputation.

When they got to him, all he said was, "Well?"

Yssha sighed. "The draugr have been cleared. Again."

"Good. I'm glad I can count on you, at least. I think we're almost to the bottom of the Barrow, but... it's going to be everything I can do to find more miners. We've... developed quite the reputation. But for enough gold... I can do it. Just barely."

"How much this time? It will be the last - and that, only if it is not too much." She could afford whatever he asked, and with a Word Wall involved, would pay it, but she didn't want him to know that.

"Five thousand."

She stared at him. "You cannot be serious! Five thousand septims?"

"I know, you could almost buy a house for that much, but like I said... we've got quite the reputation out here. And coin is the only counterweight for a bad reputation. Have you got the money?"

"I _have_ bought a house for that amount. I take your point, however." She sighed again, laying her ears back in what anyone would recognize as irritation, and handed over the coin.

"Good, good. This time, I'll spring for some more experienced muscle. That should do the trick."

"It had better. Send a courier when you are ready for us."


	41. Moonshadow

Chapter 41 - Moonshadow

Yssha smiled at her honorary uncle Andreius over a cup of tisane. They were alone in the dining hall for a change, which was rather nice; it was usually on the boisterous side, especially if Freyr was inside. "Are your rooms comfortable?"

"Everything's just fine, thanks. Your steward is a good one."

"Yes, she is. She was assigned to me as housecarl when I became Thane here, then agreed to become my steward."

They were silent for a bit, nothing more seeming to need said, then, to her surprise, Andreius spoke.

"Why did you become immortal?" he asked abruptly. "With me, it wasn't a choice; it was a side effect of Divayth Fyr's cure for corprus. Or that's how I understand it, at least."

"What?" Yssha was startled by that, but she answered anyway. "Bormah gave me a choice between becoming the Tenth Divine or immortality. I was not allowed a third choice. So I sought Paarthurnax's advice, as I often do, now that I can fly to the Throat of the World - Monahven, Mother of Winds - instead of walking up the Seven Thousand Steps to High Hrothgar, and then the rest of the way to the peak."

"And?"

"May I ask why you want to know?"

"Because to the best of my knowledge, you and I are the only two vodovah immortals in Mundus, and it might be easier for both of us if we were better friends."

Yssha nodded. "My zeymah - brother - Talos has hinted as much. Ful - so. Paarthurnax informed me that most dovah require a thur to follow and ... I suppose you could say 'be linked to' for their attitude toward others. And cautioned me that if I died, another thur would arise, and might be tempted to greed and cruelty as Alduin was." She sighed. "Since I already regretted killing my fron, my kin ... I felt I had no real choice. So I chose immortality to preserve my dovah fron, as no one else could."

Andreius nodded. "So you took on responsibility for others, when you could've taken on something a lot easier, given that the Divines usually stay out of mortal affairs."

"You could say so. But if you are asking me such intimate questions, I would like to know of your experiences during the Oblivion Crisis and first Great War."

Andreius grimaced. "I ... I'd really rather not talk about it. But I suppose fair's fair. If you're not made ill by blood and guilt."

Yssha studied him grimly. "I am a kin-slayer, and there is no guilt I am aware of worse than that. I have been bathed in my kin's blood as well - dovah hold a great deal of blood. So there is little you can say that would shock me."

"When you put it that way ... " Andreius hesitated. "You've been in some battles, I know. A few forts, the defense of Whiterun, the final assault on Windhelm. So you know the chaos, the blood and screams, the spells and arrows flying, the hand-to-hand ... well, blow that up ten or a hundred times, and you might have some idea what the sack of Imperial City was like. Oh, and add a lot of dead and maimed civilians, including women and children."

Sorcalin joined them, troubled. "I don't know how you two got onto this subject, but I don't think it's a good one to pursue."

"It isn't," Andreius agreed. "But I started it, so she has a right ... " He turned to Yssha. "That wasn't the worst part, though. Every soldier goes through similar experiences. But during the Oblivion Crisis, I was a senior officer, and that involves sending people on missions you know damn well they won't survive - a lot of them, anyway. But you have to keep focused on the mission, not your feelings."

Yssha nodded. "I have not directly sent others into combat, no - I was usually the one being sent, or at worst, leading the ones I commanded, and sharing the danger."

"That's the easy part," Andreius said. "I'll bet you never had to execute helpless prisoners because you couldn't spare the troops to guard them, either. That's enough to sicken a man, even when they're Thalmor."

"True, I have not." Yssha paused. "Using Dragonrend to shock a dovah into helplessness, then killing him when he is unable to fight back is no better, however. Kin-killing in battle is bad enough. Doing so in that way is, as you say, enough to sicken one."

"That is _enough_ ," Sorcalin said firmly. "Andreius, come with me." He stood, practically dragging Andreius along. When they were a few feet away, a purple shimmer blocked them from Yssha's view, and when it disappeared, they were gone as well.

She frowned. The purple reminded her of a conjuration spell, but who would - or could - conjure them? And why?

* * *

She still didn't have any ideas when Sorcalin reappeared the next day. "Sorry we disappeared on you yesterday," he said. "Things were getting a bit too emotional for both of you, so Azura decided to take action. And now she thinks you need to see something." He extended a hand.

Yssha hesitated. "A Daedric Prince? I am not sure - "

Sorcalin took her hand, and she felt something she hadn't since kittenhood - being Summoned.

She was stunned by the sheer beauty of the place she'd been Summoned to. The first thing she noticed was the smell, like a fine floral perfume, possibly from the wildflowers carpeting the ground. She could see a couple of waterfalls, and majestic trees, and in the distance a city that looked like it was made of silver. It didn't feel like Sovngarde or her own Stormhaven, but it did have the same supernatural aura.

"Welcome to Moonshadow," Sorcalin said.

"It is marvelous," Yssha said, "but what am I doing here?"

A woman as beautiful as her realm materialized, giving Yssha a dazzling smile. "You are here because I believe you will be good for my Champion, Dragonborn. Your father and brother agreed that you should be reassured about where he spends time when he's dead or I simply wish his company."

Yssha bowed. "I thank you for that, Lady Azura. It is most generous of you. I had not thought any part of Oblivion could be so wondrous."

"It is, isn't it?" The Daedra seemed pleased by that observation. "Just let him heal for another century or two, please, before you ask more of his war experiences. I've asked him the same thing for you."

"Of course, Lady Azura. I do not wish to cause him pain."

The Daedra's smile became even more dazzling, if possible. "Nor does he wish to hurt you. But he still has difficulty realizing, in his heart, that you're really a dragon and feel true affection for your winged kin. Or how it affects you when you absorb their souls."

"I cannot blame him. He has known me for as long as I can remember, and I certainly do not look like a dragon."

Azura chuckled. "If you were one of mine, I would offer to remedy that for you. I must admit it would be amusing to have a were-dragon roaming Mundus, but Akatosh reserves everything having to do with dragons to himself and sometimes Talos. So I can't help you with that problem." She paused. "You are cooperating with me, though, so in return I would recommend that you explore Ironbind Barrow and Lost Valley Redoubt."

Yssha bowed politely. "Thank you, Lady Azura. We shall do so."

"Excellent. You will all be returned to your home now."

Yssha blinked as the study at Lakeview Manor materialized around her, with Marcurio nearby, Andreius and Sorcalin beside her.

Marcurio's startlement was obvious. "Where did you three come from?"

"Ah ... Moonshadow, actually," Yssha replied. "Azura had something she wanted of me - a topic she wished me to avoid with Andreius for a century or two. When I agreed, she recommended we investigate Ironbind Barrow and Lost Valley Redoubt."

"And made me do the same," Andreius said, then grinned at Yssha. "Did she want to turn you into a dragon to convince me you really are one?"

"In a way - she said if I were one of hers, she would offer to turn me into a were-dragon, but Akatosh forbids outside interference with dragons. She thought it would be amusing."

Sorcalin chuckled. "She has a point. I can just see a tiny Khajiit turning into the largest creature on Nirn!"

Yssha gave him a dirty look, but said, "I admit, there are times it would be useful."

"So what was Moonshadow like?" Marcurio asked. "Stories say it's beautiful, with a city of silver and air that smells like roses."

"All are true," Yssha replied. "But trying to describe it is like trying to describe Sovngarde or Stormhaven - a physical brain simply cannot encompass such beauty or glory. I remember some of it, but much is lost in becoming physical again." She sighed. "Which, you know from experience, is probably just as well, or Mundus would become barren of life."

"Not all Oblivion realms are so benevolent," Sorcalin pointed out. "Just ask Ysshaya about the Deadlands. And Coldharbour has been described by some who were imprisoned there - it's a lot less than pleasant. Even the Hunting Grounds I look forward to would be less than pleasant for anyone but a werewolf."

"Also true," Yssha said."And speaking of Coldharbour, I should talk to Valerica when I get a chance. Harkon is undoubtedly there, and Serana will most likely be going to either Stormhaven or Sovngarde. She deserves a choice of where to go, and who to be with."

"In the meantime," Andreius said, "shouldn't we check out the places Azura recommended?"

"Yes, we probably should," Yssha agreed. "Let us prepare, and head for Ironbind Barrow."

* * *

Odahviing had to land them at the base of the trail to the barrow, since there was no open space large enough for him closer. When they approached, they heard a human and an Argonian arguing about whether to go in.

Yssha sighed, speaking to the human woman, a Redguard. "We are going in, whether you wish to or not."

That got the Redguard and Argonian rushing to the barrow entrance, and Yssha chuckled as she and her team followed. If they wanted to be the first to face hazard, she wouldn't argue, not with a Redguard in steel plate and an Argonian in mage robes, which tended to indicate they knew what they were doing.

Which they did, at least when they ran into some frostbite spiders, and had killed them by the time Yssha and her party caught up. A bit further on, though, they were having trouble getting past a barred gate, which gave Yssha the opportunity to loot a chest before she found the handle that opened the gate.

A bit further on, they found two draugr, then another passage, and more draugr and a couple of traps before they came to some sealed iron doors. The Argonian said something about a Warlord Gathrik he wanted to ... reanimate or learn from? He wasn't terribly clear, but the talk about reanimation made it clear the Argonian was a necromancer, which raised her hackles.

Still, she opened the door, and they were almost immediately attacked by a draugr, at Dragon Priest power levels but without the characteristic mask. Once he was defeated, the Argonian turned to her. "Thank you for your help. But I need your blood to revitalize Gathrik, so just hold still, and I'll make it easy on you."

Yssha growled, attacking him instead, backed up by the rest of her team. When he was dead, the Redguard sighed. "I can't believe he did that. I'm leaving ... I don't want the treasure any more." She left, not quite running.

Yssha sighed. "She should have something from this, for her efforts, but I cannot blame her. Let us see what we can find."

That loot included a steel battleaxe enchanted with Fiery Soul Trap, a couple of chests with very nice loot, and to her delight, a Word Wall with the second word of Become Ethereal! She smiled as she absorbed it. "Thank you, Lady Azura!"

"Hmm? What?" Andreius asked.

"The second word of Become Ethereal!" Yssha exclaimed happily. "Zii, Spirit. I wonder if Lost Valley Redoubt holds the third word?"

Andreius grinned. "Wouldn't surprise me - she tends to work that way, and rewards favors done her."

"So what does it actually say?" Marcurio asked.

Since the other three were learning Dovazul, she gave them that first. "Nafni wahlaan qethsegol bormahii vahrukt Rognvald wen zii fen mahfaeraak aak ok brod ahrk folook ok horokon.

"Which translates as, 'Nafni raised this stone in memory of his father Rognvald, whose spirit will forever guide his clan and haunt his enemies.'"

Andreius looked at the Word Wall dubiously. That's the written Dovahzul, huh? Will we have to learn that?"

Yssha thought for a moment, her head cocked, then she had to admit ignorance. "I learned, or rather remembered it, but I do not know if it is strictly necessary. I will have to ask one of the winged ones."

"I hope not - it looks pretty confusing."

"Well, if you do, I am sure the Greybeards will have some suggestions about the easiest way to do so."

"Are we going on to Lost Valley Redoubt," Marcurio asked, "or wait on that one till tomorrow?"

"I would like to go on - this did not take long, and was not particularly difficult, with the other two running ahead. But this is a team; we can postpone it if any of you have objections."

There were none, and she smiled. "Then we will go there, and at least see how difficult it looks."

When they arrived, it turned out to be an unusually large Forsworn encampment, with the Word Wall near the top, on an island below the highest of the waterfalls in the area. She signalled Odahviing to land out of sight of the encampment, then dismounted to speak to him. "It looks like you can take part in this one, fahdoni - I would rather not engage so many Forsworn on the ground. Can you take them with just our help, or would you like another dovah or two?"

He gape-grinned. "We could take them alone, but brod-monah Grams and Lokbiidaan have not seen action for some time. I think we should invite them, as well."

"I suppose that would only be polite. Call them, if you would."

"Certainly. Lokbiidaan ahrk Grams! Meyz wah grah!" Then he translated for the other two. "Come to battle."

"Thank you - kogaani. We must give them time for Grams to armor up; unlike me, she no longer practically lives in it."

It was half an hour or so until they heard wingbeats, and Lokbiidaan and Grams settled beside Odahviing. "What do you have for us?" Grams asked.

"A large camp of Forsworn that I do not feel like fighting on foot," Yssha replied. "We can use magic or ranged weapons, but I believe Odahviing and Lokbiidaan will do most of the work. I am most interested in the Word Wall below the top falls."

"Should be easy," Grams said.

Yssha remounted, and the dragons took off. Yssha and the dragons Shouted, while the mages cast their favorite spells. It was only a short time before the Forsworn on the main level were dead or escaped - mostly dead - and the dragons headed for the Word Wall level. A gout of dragon-flame took care of the two hagravens and potential Briarheart there, then Odahviing landed so Yssha could make use of the Word Wall.

Again she read it to the rest in Dovahzul first, then gave them the translation.

"Het nok bein nahgahdinok Azaran faal Munak wo unt wah gron krilot dilon do Sovngarde wah lein do jul ahrk funt."

She translated. "Here lies foul Necromancer Azaran the Cruel, who tried to bind valiant dead of Sovngarde to world of man and failed."

'So Dovazul leaves out things like 'an', 'is' and 'the', and most of the time lets you figure out the verb tense by context," Sorcalin said.

"Yes - it is a more compact language than Common," Yssha said. "But you have had two language lessons today, so let us collect any loot, then relax for the rest of the day."

Among the more conventional loot, there was an old steel shield that Marcurio said looked to him like it might be an heirloom, so they decided to stop by Markarth and see if anyone could identify it.

That turned out to be easier than expected, because as soon as Yssha showed it to Jarl Igmund, he recognized it as Hrolfdir's Shield, which had belonged to his father before he was killed by the Forsworn. He was delighted to get it back, and to learn the Forsworn at Lost Valley Redoubt were dead or fled, and rewarded her with some ebony armor. She thanked him, and they returned to their homes.


	42. Qolaas and Ahzidal

Chapter 42 - Qolaas and Ahzidal

There was a messenger waiting when Yssha and her team got back to Lakeview, the one Ralis had been using. He greeted the team, then said, "I've got another letter from Ralis, but this is the last thing I'm delivering for him. That place is just too much for me."

"Is there any particular reason I should know about?"

The courier shook his head. "Nothing I can pinpoint, Ysmir. It's just ... it seems to get creepier and more menacing every time he calls for me to bring you a message. Sorry I can't be more help."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't expect you to go into the barrow yourself to check! I hope your next jobs are less nerve-wracking. In the meantime, could I offer you some wine, and perhaps a bed for the night? It is getting late."

"The wine and maybe a snack, yes, but we aren't allowed to accept anything substantial, like a full meal or a room. But I appreciate the offer."

* * *

The following morning they flew to Solstheim, but this time not directly to Kolbjorn Barrow. Instead, they went to the Temple she'd sent Qolaas to. It couldn't properly be called Miraak's Temple any more, but she didn't know what Qolaas had or would rename it.

She was pleased, as they approached for a landing, to see several of the skeletons gone, replaced by proper dragon mounds. Odahviing rumbled approval when Qolaas approached while the team dismounted. "You have done well, Priestess. Should any of these come to Dragonborn's attention, she can tell them their bones have been treated with proper respect."

She bowed. "Thank you, Drog Odahviing. It has been ... not exactly a pleasure, burying those I tried to serve, but giving them the proper rites and burial is the best I could do for those."

"And what of Nahfahlaas?" Yssha asked.

Qolaas almost snarled. "What the Tahrodiik did to him was ... unforgivable. But he is now buried high on Saering's Watch, and may his sil find peace in You."

"I pray to Bormah it may be so. Would it upset you to know that all but the first two or three I slew have had my prayers?"

"Nid, Dovahkiin. It is ... very dovah of you, at least before Alduin's corruption, to be concerned for the state of your kin's souls." She smiled. "Will you enter your Temple, and see what I have accomplished?"

"Gladly. I assume you have removed the Tahrodiikdro name from it?"

Qolaas smiled. "Geh, of course. It is now Dovahkiinro Temple."

Yes, she should have expected that, Yssha thought. Dovahkiin's Temple. Well, it was accurate enough, and few people now even knew that Miraak had been a Dragonborn, much less that he had been the First, as she was the Last. Or that she now held his soul, though he slept and she had no intention of awakening him.

The team followed Qolaas into the Temple, then into a room with a circular table. The first time she'd been here, this had been occupied by three skeletons, and obviously abandoned, with everything covered in dust and cobwebs. Now it was clean and brightly lit, which was a great improvement. Qolaas escorted her to the central one of the five stone thrones, all of which now had cushions.

The Dragon Priestess left the room briefly, then she and the team seated themselves. "Are you here for anything special, Lady Dovahkiin?" she asked.

"Mostly to see how you are doing, and find out if you need anything," Yssha replied. "And I have some questions you may be able to answer, about the Dragon Priest masks."

"I'll tell you everything I know, of course." Qolaas smiled. "I'm doing well. I've been able to hire masons for the rebuilding, and servants to clean and cook, once mercenaries finished clearing out the draugr and removing traps. Food and drink will be arriving shortly."

Yssha returned the smile. "That is good. Are you making arrangements for any pilgrims to stay here, or will they have to stay in Raven Rock?"

"Raven Rock, for now," Qolaas said. "There's no suitable place here, yet, but I do have plans to refurbish several rooms for them in what used to be - I think - a dormitory for acolytes."

"Do you need anything? Gold, perhaps? Prices here tend to be higher than on the mainland."

"Yes, some gold would be helpful. Between the ebony mine and some sort of archeological expedition at Kolbjorn Barrow, labor costs are higher than I'd expected."

One of the servants entered, bringing sweet rolls, fruit, and wine, served them, and left again, silently

"So I am competing for labor with myself!" Yssha chuckle-purred at that. "The archeological dig will end, one way or another, with this trip, so there will be less competition. I will leave ten thousand with you; send a courier - or a dragon - when you need more."

"I've only seen a couple of dragons since I've been here," Qolaas said with obvious disappointment, "and those were at a distance. I wonder if they're deliberately avoiding this place."

"I suppose that is possible," Yssha said. "Perhaps they dislike the skeletons, perhaps it reminds them of the Traitor, perhaps ... I simply do not know. Yet. I will ask when we go back outside. But if you need one, do as others do - fly a red flag, and a Skyguard dragon will respond."

"I did so to get Nahfahlaas' remains to Saering's Watch, but I dislike summoning them. It seems ... inappropriate, somehow."

Yssha smiled. "I believe I can understand that, my sonaak. You worshipped and served them in your life, so of course you would have difficulty asking them to serve you."

Qolaas nodded. "Exactly, Lady Dovahkiin. I know they've changed from the dov I knew back then, but my heart isn't quite convinced of what my mind knows." She paused, then changed the subject. "What do you want to know about the Dragon Priests?"

"Let us start with how many there were of them."

"In all of Tamriel? I couldn't say - I spent my postulancy and novitiate - until I was killed - in Skyrim. There, there were eight who had earned masks."

"Of which, we have encountered and defeated five - Krosis, Morokei, Nahkriin, Rahgot, and Vokun. We have also defeated three here on Solstheim, Vahlok, Zakriisos, and of course Miraak himself."

"On the mainland, you've missed Hevnoraak, Volsung, and Otar the Mad. Here, the only one I was aware of was Miraak the Traitor, because he was so notorious." She grinned. "I can give you their locations, if you wish. Rumor had it, in the priesthood, that there was a ninth mask that could be obtained by placing all eight on a special pedestal in Bromjumaar Sanctuary, which could be entered only by using a tenth mask, a wooden one, in a particular spot in Bromjumaar itself. The ninth mask is called Konahrik, and more powerful than the others, though I don't know about its spells."

"And Bromjumaar is now called Labyrinthian, after Shalidor built his maze there back in the First Era," Marcurio said. "Sure, give us the locations - we don't want unsuspecting adventurers running into a Dragon Priest and getting themselves killed." He grinned. "That sort of thing's not good for business."

Qolaas smiled. "Yes, I was told about your Porter Service. Your clients getting killed would rather definitely eliminate them as repeat customers. All right, assuming they died near their temples, you would want Valthume, Ragnvald, and Volskygge."

"Thank you," Yssha said. "You have been most helpful. Now, is there anything you would like to know about what must be a strange world to you, after several thousand years?"

Qolaas chuckled. "So strange I don't even know what to ask about! I'd do best, I think, to spend time around people, but Raven Rock is too far to walk every day and still carry out the tasks you gave me. And they would have to know I'm your priestess. But with no one else worshipping dragons any more, would they even accept that?"

"I may be able to solve the transportation problem when I speak to a dragon, and all they need to know, at least until pilgrims start to arrive, is that you are a priestess. Clergy are held in high regard almost everywhere, regardless of which Divine they serve ... or in my case, immortal." Which made her wonder if Andreius was worshipped, but she sensed that was part of what she wasn't supposed to ask for a long time, if ever.

They chatted a bit longer, before Yssha finished her wine and stood. "Let us go talk to a dragon, sonaaki." She turned to Andreius. "My Priestess ... or my dragon priestess, perhaps. The translation is not exact."

"Got it."

They left the Temple, and Yssha looked around, seeing a couple of dragons in the distance. She had no idea who they were, so she simply Called, "Vahriini - hin thur hind tinvaak!"

Both immediately wheeled toward the Temple, landing near them. They introduced themselves as Grahkrindrog and Krahjotdaan, and bowed to her, dragon-style. Grahkrindrog gape-grinned. "What tinvaak do you wish, thuri?"

"To know why you avoid this place. My sonaak would like dovah company, and I would like her to have transportation if she needs it."

Grahkrindrog spat fire to one side. "Because this place still stinks of Miraak faal Tahrodiik. It needs cleansed of that taint before we will willingly approach it."

Oh. The place still stank of Miraak, the Traitor. That was understandable. Yssha turned to Qolaas. "I thought that was your first priority?"

She looked confused. "It was, and I performed the cleansing rituals I was taught. I ... I don't know why they didn't work."

Yssha looked at Grahkrindrog. "Do you have any ideas, vahriini?"

He studied the revived Dragon Priestess carefully, then nodded. "Insufficient mana would be the most likely, thuri. Unlike magica, which is naturally generated by all living creatures, mana comes directly from the gods, and cleansing a temple of faal Tahrodiik's level of evil takes a great deal."

Yssha sighed. "Then there is little I can do to help, as I am not a divine."

A very faint image of a flaming dragon appeared. "But I am, and I grant Qolaas the mana she needs to do My Will."

Yssha bowed, and Qolaas ... seemed to try to disappear into the dirt, briefly, before she rose. Th...thank you, Bormah do Dov." She bowed, very deeply, then turned to face the Temple, raising her hands and beginning to chant a cleansing ritual.

This time it worked. A miasma Yssha hadn't seen, and barely sensed, disappeared from around the Temple, and both of the dragons she'd called roared fire into the sky. "Fin vokul los vomeyz. The evil is gone. We will visit the priestess of Dovahkiin, and help her, where we can, with her duties."

Yssha bowed to them. "I thank you, vahriini. I must go now, to take care of other business, but know that I appreciate your assistance."

With that, she called Odahviing, and they went to Kolbjorn Barrow. She was surprised to find the camp deserted, with several bodies scattered around but no one living, so she looked around, trying to find some clue to what had happened. She found that in the last of Ralis' journals.

"Lord Ahzidal demands more blood, and I give it willingly. The hired men have somewhat pitiful souls, so it sometimes takes several of them to achieve the desired effects.

"I won't be writing any more. There is no need. The time has come to awaken the master, and bring him to the fate he deserves."

Yssha snarled. "So I have been financing his sacrifices to Ahzidal. He had best have an extremely good explanation for his actions."

"Damn right," Marcurio agreed. "Let's go find out."

When they got to the room with the scaffolding, she heard the Word Wall chanting more clearly, and found it had been excavated, though she had to squeeze past some of the scaffolding to get close enough to absorb the word. The others were too big to get though the small gap, so she squeezed through again to rejoin them.

"What was it, love?" Marcurio asked.

"Ven, wind, the first word of Cyclone," she replied.

After that, none of them said much as they made their way through the barrow, fighting more draugr, to where they'd been stopped before, past the swinging blade trap, to a now-open throne chamber with three draugr to be taken out as they rose from the thrones. When that was done, Andreius pointed out a suit of armor, probably Ahzidal's, behind a set of bars. He and Marcurio solved a minor puzzle to lower the bars and retrieve the armor, then another one to open a trapdoor and reveal a wooden spiral staircase. They ran into more draugr, but lighting a pool of oil took care of those, and a third puzzle gave them Ahzidal's gauntlets.

As they moved on, she heard Ralis pleading with Ahzidal. Ahzidal! Awaken! It is time!"

And again, "Master, arise!"

Following the sound, they found him in the middle of a stone circle with glowing red runes, finishing his incantations. "Ahzidal, arise!"

And he got a response, Ahzidal bursting from the center of the circle in a beam of red light, hurling Ralis aside either unconscious or dead.

Ahzidal turned on the team then, casting fire spells and summoning fire atronachs. The four responded with frost-based spells - Ice Form, in Yssha's case. Ahzidal also waked draugr and reanimated some of the dead miners scattered around the chamber, but all four knew to concentrate on Ahzidal himself. When he went down, so did the miners and draugr, his atronachs vanishing. Yssha retrieved his mask and turned to Ralis, who was struggling to his feet.

He spoke before she could demand an explanation. "Oh, gods... what happened? What have I done?"

"That is what I was going to ask you. Just exactly what is going on?"

He looked dazed, and sounded confused when he replied. "I ... I don't remember. Ever since I got here ... to Kolbjorn ... I've heard whispers. Voices. Thoughts. Imaginings. They've only gotten louder since I've stayed. Pounding, driving. A couple of times I blacked out. It was ... It was just before the draugr woke up."

"Was it you who killed the miners?" she demanded.

"I don't know. I ... maybe? It's what... it's what he wanted. He just needed their energy. I don't know! I hope I didn't. But ... maybe I ... please, you have to believe me?"

She turned to her team. "Sorcalin, do you have a spell to determine his truthfulness?"

"Not as such, but I can tell you he's been under a rather nasty compulsion spell until a few minutes ago. Does that help?"

"Yes - thank you." She turned to Ralis.

"Then I believe you, but leave this barrow and never return."

He looked relieved. "Of course! I don't even want to hear the word 'barrow' again. Ever. I'll go to Raven Rock and you ... you won't mention this to anyone. If you see me there, just ... give a nod and I'll lend a hand if you need it. It's ... it's the least I can do. Just ... keep this quiet."

Before she could reply, he left, not quite running. She and her team followed, more slowly. "This was ... a very disturbing adventure," she said slowly. "I fear that this time, indulging my curiosity was a serious lapse in judgement."

"You couldn't know any better, love," Marcurio said.

Andreius nodded agreement. "He's right, youngster. So don't beat yourself up over it. It wasn't your first mistake, and take it from me, it certainly won't be your last. Evaluate it to see if you can learn anything from it, sure, but don't dwell on it."

"I will do my best," Yssha said. That would be difficult advice to follow, but she knew both were right, and she would try to follow it.


	43. Return to Active Duty

Chapter 43 - Return to Active Duty

Grams and Lokbiidaan landed at Lakeview Manor for a dual-purpose visit, hoping the team was at home. Dragon rumor had it that Nevan and Serana had, for all practical purposes, moved to Blackreach for research, though they usually returned home for supper and the night, and Yssha's honorary uncles had taken their place. It'd be nice to see them all again.

But only the current team members were there when she arrived in time for supper, and she smiled, hugging them. "It's good to see you again!"

"Grams!" Yssha exclaimed happily. "Is everything all right?"

"Just fine, youngster. "Though the Knights would like to meet your people." She looked around at them, grinning. "Just to make sure they're worthy of you, of course."

Yssha wasn't quite sure how to react to that. "Grams, you know they are!" She started to describe their qualifications, then subsided. "Sir Stildyne, right?"

"Right. He's a bit overly protective, but he's good."

Yssha looked at her. "Grams, he'll ... he'll lose it when he sees Nevan in action. And Andreius is ... incredible, too. Not too long ago, he won a bout with three Legionnaires, without using magic, and ... well, you know who he really is. And Uncle Sorcalin. And ... Serana. I think Marcurio and I are the only ones who don't have anything to hide. Do we dare?"

"Oh, sure." Grams grinned. "They haven't seen you since you left for Skyrim, remember? Don't you think they want to congratulate their fosterling, as well as meet your people?"

"Ah ... yes, I suppose they would." Yssha sighed. "Formal or informal?"

Grams thought for a moment. "Informal, I think. It's a visit with friends, after all, not an official one. Though it might not be a bad idea to bring the Stormcrown along, just in case."

In case of what, Yssha wondered. "You've got something up your sleeve, don't you?" she asked.

Grams shrugged. "I don't know yet - I'll need to talk to Andreius first. You know he was a Legion officer, but do you know what his rank was?"

It was Yssha's turn to think, then she shook her head. "I do not believe either of you mentioned it. Why?"

"Because we're at war, and if he's willing, I think Titus would be eager to reinstate him. He was a Knight of the Imperial Dragon - in modern terms, a general. Sorcalin was a civilian, not a Legionnaire, but he was a big help with both destruction and restoration magic. I have my suspicions that he did some Thalmor-hunting on the side, as well."

"I would hate to lose him, or perhaps them, especially since Nevan and Serana are spending most of their time in either Sightless Pit or Blackreach and I no longer like going into dungeons with a team of less than the four I have grown accustomed to. But if the Empire needs him for the war effort, that must take precedence over my preferences."

"I haven't mentioned him to Titus yet, or he'd've been called back to active duty already - you know the Legion's for life, however long that life is. Though most retire after twenty-five years, of course."

* * *

Nevan was grinning when he and Serana returned for the evening, which made Yssha smile. "You had a good day?"

He nodded. "I'll tell everyone over supper. Or rather, let Serana do it, since she's the one who made a breakthrough you'll love."

"Two, actually, but one we'll have to talk with High King Balgruuf about before we mention it to anyone else," Serana said.

"Oh? May I at least have a hint?"

The Sandeman and ex-vampire exchanged glances, then Serana nodded. "You're Stormcrown, and you already do a much more versatile version of it, or can. It's a limited version of Teleport, that requires mage-linked great soul gems and a specially-enchanted diagram engraved on a dwarven-metal platform."

That was interesting, Yssha thought. Balgruuf had objected to her teaching the College mages her Teleport spell, because it had so much potential for misuse, but something that required a special platform and mage-linked great soul gems - whatever Serana meant by that - might overcome his objections.

"Grams will be interested in that as well," Yssha said. "She is here for a visit."

"Grams?" Both of them grinned, and Serana asked, "Where is she?"

"Inside, either talking to Andreius or playing with Freyr. I will be in shortly."

* * *

Yssha entered Balgruuf's throne room with Nevan and Serana the following morning, seeing he'd mounted the bonemold model of Numinex's skull above his throne where the original had been until she'd asked for it. Irileth approached them, smiling. "What can we do for you, Ysmir?"

"We need a private audience, if the High King does not mind, when he is free. Please do not interrupt him, though; we know how busy he is."

Irileth chuckled, something Yssha hadn't known she could do. "Urgent, semi-urgent, or routine? Er, no, it wouldn't be routine if you came yourself. May I know the subject?"

"His housecarl? Of course." Yssha checked to see if anyone was in earshot, then said softly, "a mode of magical fast transport I do not think he would object to."

"Yes, Ysmir, I'll tell him." Irileth approached the throne, murmured in Balgruuf's ear, and got a surprised look. He murmured something back, and Irileth returned to Yssha's group.

"He says to go up to his office, and he'll join you as soon as he gets this dispute settled. Tisane for you and Nevan, but I don't know what Lady Serana prefers - ?"

"A nice sweet red wine, please. I haven't learned current wineries or vintages, so use your own judgement."

"Very well. A nice Surilie Brothers moscato, then."

* * *

They were still nursing their drinks when Balgruuf entered his office with a flagon of mead and settled into his desk chair. "I should never have let you maneuver me into the Jagged Crown," he told Yssha. "If I thought running a Hold was a pain, running a Province is ten times worse."

"But Elisif would have ... not done well," Yssha protested. "She has matured, and is now a competent Jarl, but at the time, she was incompetent for the Throne." She sighed. "As I am still a poor Jarl, and a worse Stormcrown. Administration is most certainly not something I was trained for. Killing evil-doers and taking their things, yes ... paperwork, no."

"Oh, Lydia handles that part just fine," Balgruuf said, grinning. "Your accounts are up to date, your tax receipts the only ones I don't have to worry about honesty on, and I've gotten no internal complaints from Skyhold. Jarl-wise, you're doing just fine. Now, what's this about a magical fast-travel system?"

Serana was only a couple of sentences into her description before Balgruuf held up his hand. "A moment, please. I need my Court Mage." He sent a servant to get Farengar, and when he'd arrived, had Serana start over.

Farengar listened attentively, asking an occasional question, and smiled when she was done. "How ingenious," he said at last. "We must build a test pair."

"It _is_ a lot more limited than Yssha's spell," Balgruuf said thoughtfully. "Very well, go ahead. If it works and has the range, it would simplify at least travel between Hold capitals. Is there anything else?"

Serana nodded. "Yes, but not as dramatic. The Dwemer had a way of ... I suppose you could say 'turning down' the Destruction rune spells, making them last longer, and even shrinking them to serve various purposes."

Balgruuf looked interested. "Such as?"

"Well, large slow fire ones could be used for heat in winter, frost ones for coolness in summer. Small slow fire could be used as handwarmers, or to keep food or drink hot, frost for the opposite, of course. I don't know what slow lightning ones could be used for, but Nevan thinks they could be used as batteries to power something called electronics. I don't know what either of those words means, though."

"I have a feeling that in ten years, or maybe less, Tamriel is going to be very different from what it was when he arrived. Oblivion, it already is! But between him, the Odmer, the dragons, the Odmer library, Blackreach, and this Sorine Jurard ... " Balgruuf's voice trailed off. "We already have plumbing, now we're adding teleport platforms if they work out, heating and cooling ... who knows what'll be next!"

Nevan grinned. "We don't know, either. Maybe a self-loading crossbow, if only because Yssha wants one. And don't underestimate human ingenuity, either. We did all of that in my home universe, using purely physical means because magic doesn't work there."

* * *

While those three were at Dragonsreach, Marcurio took over the weapons teaching, then joined the children for their Dovahzul lesson with Ahkrinbo.

Grams was speaking with Andreius and Sorcalin. They'd been talking for most of an hour when she sighed. "You know I can't answer your questions, Andi, because I simply have no way to know the answers! Oblivion, we don't even know what this final tempering's going to be, or the sign, or the timing. All we know is that it's something she'll have to go through, and that Sor's going to be critical at the end. He's an Altmer, a werewolf, and a skilled mage - it may even be the combination that's crucial, and you're his partner, so you'll probably be crucial too. And Titus knows all that, except for Sor being were - and maybe that as well, if the Penitus somehow found out."

This time it was Andreius who sighed. "So what do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Go with me to see Titus," Grams replied calmly "Wear your best armor, let me carry your favorite weapon until you're reinstated - after that twenty-year absence, you've been listed as missing and presumed dead - and identify yourself. I'll wear my Divine Crusader armor and confirm it, and that you fought beside me during both the Oblivion Crisis and the First Great War."

Andreius frowned, but nodded. "My Legion oath still holds, I suppose. And if I'm going to blow my own cover, I might as well go the whole way. Working with the Dragonborn's attracting more attention to us than we expected anyway. Let me borrow a dragon, and I'll go to my stash, pick up what I'll need."

Grams nodded. "We can do that. I'll go to the Palace and ask for an audience tomorrow afternoon. We can visit the Knights in the morning, take care of two things with one trip."

"And you ought to tell His Majesty about the discoveries the researchers are making in Blackreach, too," Sorcalin added.

"Yes, I should," Grams agreed. "I'll take care of that part today, so we can concentrate on the other tomorrow."

X

The flight to the Priory of the Nine was uneventful, with Yssha - in dress armor, since Grams had changed her advice - with Marcurio, Andreius, and Sorcalin on Odahviing with Yssha, while Grams, Nevan, and Serana rode Lokbiidaan. They landed at a distance from the stables, and dismounted, approaching the group of Knights near the Priory entrance.

They embraced Yssha, then Sir Stildyne grinned at her. "We've been hearing a lot about you, foster-daughter." He shook his head. "So Ysshaya was right that you were - and still are - doom-driven. You have our sympathy, for such a path is never easy. Will you introduce your friends? It'd be nice to put faces to the names we already know."

She obliged, making introductions all around, describing each one's primary ability. "So you see, all of us are mages and melee fighters both," she concluded. And thanks to a Dawnguard artisan, I have a ranged weapon I can use accurately!"

Sir Rhianna chuckled. "That thing on your back - a crossbow?"

Yssha nodded, and Sorcalin grinned. "A called left eye shot on a charging frost troll at over a hundred feet," he said. "Cost Andreius a ten-septim bet with Nevan."

"Really? I'm impressed," Sir Rhianna said. "Show me how you aim it, would you?"

"Of course - you haven't moved the target butts, have you?"

"No - let's go. What range do you want?"

"It is sighted in for a hundred feet, but I can adjust elevation from twenty to one-eighty. After that, its accuracy drops drastically. At closer ranges, though, the bolt easily penetrates the butt, so unless there is a backstop, I prefer a minimum distance of a hundred."

When the whole group got to the target range, Yssha unslung and cocked her crossbow, shouldered it, and fired in one smooth motion.

"Very good!" Sir Rhianna exclaimed, sounding surprised. "May I try it?"

"Certainly." Yssha handed it over, and without cocking or loading it, Sir Rhianna held it to her shoulder.

"Huh!" she exclaimed. "Designed better for a woman's anatomy than a standard bow is, that's for sure. I want one, if you think your Sorine'd be willing to build me one."

"Maybe a couple, for Yssha's friends," Nevan replied. "But she's mostly an artisan and inventor, not a production smith. Maybe Yssha can get her to send you the diagrams, though, and your smith could make more for the Knights."

"With spare iron bolts - those aren't the best, but you can use them as templates for better ones," Yssha added.

The rest of the morning was spent in demonstrations of combat techniques, a bit of sparring, and a simple but tasty lunch, before Grams said it was time to leave for their audience. Yssha called both dragons, and they left for Imperial City.

* * *

The Emperor welcomed the group when they entered his private office, smiling at all of them, especially Grams and Yssha. "What do you have for me, Divine Crusader? Something to do with the two I haven't - " He broke off, staring at Andreius. "Is that ... the _Lord's Mail_ he's wearing?"

Andreius smiled slightly and bowed, but let Grams reply. "It is, Your Majesty. I have the honor of presenting Knight of the Imperial Dragon Andreius Hargan, the Nerevarine, and his partner, Sorcalin. You met them, Andreius as a civilian, at the meeting Yssha asked you to call, but I think you might want to consider reinstating Andreius in the Legion."

The Emperor was silent, stunned, for a full minute before glaring at Grams. "Ysshaya of Ysshaya, are you trying to give your sovereign a heart attack? As far as anyone's known, he's been dead for two hundred years!"

Grams didn't sound at all repentant. "Not at all, Titus, and you know it. You like surprises, at least nice ones, and what could be better than getting an experienced senior officer the Empire hasn't had to pay since the end of the Oblivion Crisis?"

"Well, I suppose I do have to give you credit for springing this on me in a private audience," the Emperor conceded, then turned to Andreius. "This is totally up to you, Lord Hargan," he said. "The Legion is for life, and we hope anyone in the Legion will feel like a Legionnaire for that time, but I'm sure you know we don't really expect more than twenty-five years' service, before a trooper has to move to a less demanding occupation. We certainly don't expect a lifetime of service from a mer, and certainly not from an immortal." He glanced at Yssha. "That goes for you too, of course."

Andreius studied the Emperor for a moment, then nodded. "I'll take it, Sire, with one condition, based on Dovahkiin's vision."

The Emperor smiled. "That when her tempering begins, you get reassigned from whatever you're doing at the time to ... waiting for the sign, and whatever happens afterward? Yes, that's quite acceptable."

"Then I accept, Sire. But may I ask why Your Majesty called me Lord Hargan?"

"Aside from your deeds as Nerevarine, which earn it several times over, you're the reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar, King of the Chimer, ruler of what's become Morrowind. But since you're no longer ruling anywhere, 'lord' is the highest civil title I can use." The Emperor smiled. "Welcome back to the Legion, General Hargan."

Andreius bowed. "Thank you, Sire."

"From now on, you'll be expected to be armed at all times. Would you like something from the Imperial Armory, or will you be using Trueflame and Hopesfire?"

"Neither, Sire," Andreius said, a little surprised the Emperor knew of the twin blades, since he'd only used them briefly. "I'll be using Moonbeam, which was forged and enchanted specifically for me. If I may, I'll summon it."

"Go ahead."

Andreius held up his hand, summoned Moonbeam, and when the scabbarded blade appeared, fastened it to his belt.

The Emperor turned his attention to Sorcalin, who was wearing his Master Mage robes. "And what of you? I understand you and General Hargan have worked together for some time."

Sorcalin turned to Yssha. "Would you mind terribly?"

She hid a sigh, and smiled as best she could. It was disappointing to have both of them leave after so short a time, but maybe later ... Divines knew, she would have plenty of time after the tempering! "You must do as you think best, of course. I will miss you, and both of you are welcome anywhere in Skyhold at any time."

"Thanks." Sorcalin returned her smile, then spoke to the Emperor. "I'll be happy to continue working with General Hargan, but not as a member of the Legion. I'm not the military type, was never in the Legion."

"That's acceptable, but it means no Legion salary, either."

Both Andreius and Sorcalin chuckled. "That's not a problem, Sire."

The Emperor smiled, then turned to one of his Penitus Oculatus guards. "Would you please ask Prince Gaius and as many of the General Staff as you can find to be in the throne room in an hour?"

The Penitus guard bowed. "Of course, Sire. Shall I give them a reason?"

"No, that would just get gossip started."

"Yes, Sire."

"General, Sorcalin, I'll want a longer talk with you and Prince Gaius back here after the public audience, but for now, may I offer you some refreshments?"

* * *

Yssha hid a sigh as she donned the Stormcrown for the public audience and the whole group followed her and the Emperor to the throne room. So this was why Grams had changed her mind and asked Yssha to wear her formal gear. She'd lost Nevan and Serana in favor of Dwemer research; now she was losing Andreius and Sorcalin to the Legion, at least until after the war.

True, there were plenty of others who'd offered to follow her, but only a couple who had the ability to heal themselves - Brother Erandur and Valdimar, her steward at Windstad Manor. She'd have to talk it over with Marcurio, of course, but probably those two as temporary team members, one of the others - which one? - to watch over Windstad Manor construction, then basically house-sit until Valdimar could resume those duties. Or perhaps leave Valdimar in place, and hire one of Tornalf's Terrors to accompany her, Erandur, and Marcurio instead.

When she, the Emperor, and the group with them had taken their places, Titus Mede II formally introduced Andreius and Sorcalin to Crown Prince Gaius and the General Staff, then continued when the resulting murmurs subsided. "They will be assigned to Crown Prince Gaius effective tomorrow morning, and quartered here in the White Gold Tower."

"Sire," an Imperial general in his late 40s said as he rose from his seat. "Are you really going to appoint someone we know nothing of to the Crown Prince?"

Several members of the General Staff nodded and voiced their agreement.

Andreius smiled. "It is true that you know nothing of me, but my loyalty to the Empire is as strong as any other Legionnaire's. The Champion of Cyrodiil and Stormcrown can both vouch for that." He then turned to the Prince. "As for my combat ability, I will fight against a champion of choice by anyone who wishes to prove me."

Gram's tail twitched, in amusement rather than anger or anticipation, and she managed a creditable imitation of a condescending drawl. "The Champion of Cyrodiil does, and would recommend that anyone who is dubious about the Nerevarine go study some history. If you really know nothing of him, you should remedy your ignorance."

Yssha shifted position to sprawl in her throne like most Jarls, and chuckle-purred. "Stormcrown fully concurs with the Champion, and would add that if you wish to test his combat ability, you are fools. I fought and killed Alduin, Miraak, and Harkon; he fought and killed Dagoth Ur, resulting in the deaths of Sotha Sil, Vivec, and Almalexia. Sending anything less than a Daedric Prince against either of us would be ... less than wise."

The Emperor laughed. "I think that is sufficient assurance, gentlefolk. You are dismissed."


	44. Finding a Substitute

Author's Note: Kiraya is Cyclone Sword's creation, one I promptly fell in love with. We don't know yet exactly what she'll be doing, but she will have a recurring role.

* * *

Chapter 44 - Finding a Substitute

Yssha settled in beside Marcurio, her head on his arm, her arm draped across his chest, and sighed softly.

"What's wrong, dearling?"

"It is unfair, I know, but I feel almost like our friends have deserted us. Not that I truly wish to keep them from following their own paths, but - "

"I understand. First Nevan and Serana, now Andreius and Sorcalin." He kissed her gently. "We'll find temporary replacements, don't worry."

"I am not worried, precisely. Many have offered to adventure with us, though most lack the self-healing ability I consider essential. Erandur would be a welcome addition, but who else? Valdimar is qualified, but I would not like to have to replace him as steward of Windstad Manor, with the construction under way. And I did speak to Andreius before we left. He suggested a Khajiit archer he knew, but did not know her present location. He said he would try to find her, and send a courier if he did, but ... "

Marcurio chuckled, stroking her forehead, and she laid her ears back in pleasure. "I've been giving that some thought myself, and you've got a whole compound full of mercenaries just outside Helgen. You could always ask Tornalf if he has anyone who fits the abilities we need."

"Yes, but that can wait." Yssha managed to combine a purr and a predatory growl. "I have other things in mind for you at the moment."

Marcurio grinned. "And what might those be?"

Yssha purred. "Let me show you ... "

* * *

At Tornalf's compound, they asked to see Captain Tornalf, and the gate guard grinned. "I'll show you to his office right away, then chase him down." When Yssha looked surprised, he grinned. "Standing orders, Ysmir. You want anything to drink, or food?"

"No, thank you; we just finished breakfast." When the guard opened the gate and ushered them inside, she was impressed. Given how little time they'd had for construction, it was surprisingly well-built, and clean. When she commented on that, the guard laughed.

"Tornalf's always picked his people on ability, not race, an' he kinda likes having mages, so for a mostly-Nord company, we're mage-heavy. That helped a lot with the construction. He's also got a thing about keeping clean pleasing the Divines, so he makes us do that, too, an' he's in Aetherius about plumbing. This's prob'ly the most modern merc compound in Tamriel!"

They were at Tornalf's office by then, on the top floor of the compound's central tower, and the guard grinned. "Make y'selves to home while I go find him. Can watch the recruit training north, veteran practice south, maintenance east an' west."

When he left to find Tornalf, Yssha smiled at Marcurio. "I had some qualms about establishing a mercenary compound near Helgen, even of a company with a decent reputation, but after seeing how well this place is run, those are gone."

"Agreed. Having been a merc myself, I can tell you this isn't a typical compound - it's more like a Legion outpost than a merc camp. You obviously got one of the best."

It wasn't long before Tornalf joined them, smiling. "Good t'see ya again, Ysmir. What'cha think?"

"I think that you are doing very well indeed, Captain Tornalf. And I am pleased to see it."

"Just curious, or any particular reason t' see me?"

Yssha smiled. "Both, actually. I wished to see how you and yours were doing, and it is possible I will need to hire an archer, if you have one who fits my needs."

Tornalf became all business. "An' those are?"

"The ability to heal him- or herself is the most important," Yssha replied. "Willingness to ride a dragon, of course, and go into caves and Dwemer ruins. Willingness to face draugr of various strengths, including dragon priest level, as well as whatever other foes we may face."

Tornalf looked dubious. "Sounds like y' want a team member. Lose one? Din't hear anythin' 'bout it."

"Both my new ones, but they are not dead, simply working for the Crown Prince until the war is over. A priest I aided against Vaermina will replace one, and I would like the archer to replace the other until Andreius and Sorcalin are free to return."

"Vaermina? Oh, yeah, that Dawnstar mess." Tornalf frowned. "Dunno 'f any o' my people'd be willin' t' face Daedric Princes. I'll ask, but don' get yer hopes up."

"Please do ask, and send a courier to Lakeview with the response. I will pay well, but the position is definitely a dangerous one. Now, if you will excuse us, I should go to Dawnstar to pick up Erandur."

Tornalf grinned. "'Kay. Be welcome here any time, Ysmir."

* * *

When they landed at Nightcaller Temple and dismounted, Odahviing snorted. "I smell frost trolls, thuri. Shall I clean them out?"

Yssha chuckle-purred. "Any predators near towns or other vodovah-occupied places are fair game, you know."

Odahviing gape-grinned. "Of course. But it is enjoyable asking, and the thur always gets first refusal for any prey. As _you_ know."

Yssha smiled. "These are all yours, with my blessings."

He took off as Yssha and Marcurio entered the Temple. Erandur wasn't in the small chapel he'd set up - and had rearranged and cleaned since last time they'd been here. The altar and shrine were in front of the room where a podium had been, rather than off to one side, the pews upright facing it, and the entire room was spotless. The door to the rest of the temple, to the right of the altar, was open, so after Yssha took a few minutes to pray, they went in search of the priest.

They found him in the dormitory room, cleaning and straightening things up. One of the beds was made, and she gathered that was where he slept. They hadn't been in stealth mode, so he heard them coming, and turned with a smile. "Dovahkiin! Marcurio! It's wonderful to see you again, but where are Nevan and Serana?"

"He found something that lets him use his education, not just his combat skills, so they are researching Dwemer technology, mostly in Blackreach."

"I see." Erandur smiled. "Does this visit mean you wish me to accompany you, as I offered when we defeated Vaermina?"

"It does, if the offer still holds," Yssha said. "But if you prefer to remain here, I will understand."

"No, no, not at all! The chance to aid one blessed by two of the other Divines as well as my Lady Mara is not to be missed! Just give me five minutes to pack a few things."

"We will be waiting outside - my friend Odahviing is hunting some frost trolls."

Erandur smiled at that, and they left him to his packing. On the way out of the Temple, Yssha grinned at her husband. "So you were right about why Maramar gave me that Amulet of Mara."

"It seemed a reasonable guess, given that Bjorlam recommended we marry, and it was only a little later Maramar gave you the amulet." He chuckled. "I think we were on the receiving end of a couple of Her 'motherly nudges'."

"It seems likely, yes, and if so, I owe her a few more prayers of thanks."

Marcurio smiled. "You're more devout than I've ever been, but for that, I'll join you."

Erandur was dressed for riding when he rejoined them, leather trews and tunic, with his mace at his side and a small pack on his back.

* * *

When they arrived back at Lakeview Manor, Erandur was surprised. "It is beautiful, house and grounds both! I'm to live here while I'm with you?"

Yssha smiled, amused. "Of course. This is my headquarters, I suppose you would say. My steward Rayya will find you a room, and help you get settled in. Ah, here she comes!"

Rayya approached, smiling. "A guest, my Jarl?"

"Yes - Erandur, a priest of Mara. He will require something like an altar, and I will provide the materials for a small shrine."

Rayya smiled. "One of the larger bedrooms, with an extra table, should do nicely. Very well, Brother Erandur, if you will come with me?"

* * *

The next morning, Yssha had two messages waiting, one from Tornalf, the other from Andreius. She debated which to open first, but decided on Tornalf''s.

It was simple, and had obviously been written by a scribe, not Tornalf himself, whose handwriting was little more than a scrawl. "I am sorry, Ysmir, but while my archers are courageous, or they would not be in the Terrors, none are willing to commit themselves to an assignment that may involve facing Daedric Princes. I am sorry."

Andreius' message was more hopeful. "Seems Kiraya's still in Dune. Not sure how she'll feel about something that involves riding dragons, but it's worth asking. Extremely good archer, decent with a sword or dagger, great at sneaking. Worth a try for your team."

"So we're going to Dune," Marcurio said. "That's almost directly south of here, on the other side of Cyrodiil. It'll be a relatively long flight."

"Which I will enjoy immensely," Yssha said. "I hope it will not bother you too much."

"Not any longer," Marcurio said with a grin. "I'm still not all that fond of flying, but I haven't been airsick in months. I'll be fine - let's go."

* * *

Dune was in north-western Elsweyr, the badlands. As far as Yssha was concerned, it wasn't all that different from any other city, except for being more open and inhabited primarily by Khajiit of all types, from the small Alfiq to the huge Senche-Raht. She and Marcurio located the inn, usually the best place to find a mercenary, and asked the bartender about Kiraya.

He pointed them toward a gray tabby - Suthay, like herself - in a four-person dining booth, who looked up at their approach. "The Dragonborn wishes to speak with this one? She is honored."

Yssha bowed slightly. "May we join you?"

Kiraya nodded, and they slid into the booth on the other side of the table. "And may this one ask why she has attracted such a notable's attention?"

No hostility, Yssha noted, but also none of the deference she considered excessive but had learned to tolerate. "You may. I am looking for someone willing to act as member of my team until two of its regular members are able to return. A close friend of myself and my family, Andreius Hargan, recommended you."

"Andreius? In that case, Kiraya is willing to give you a small discount if she accepts the job. She makes her living this way, so she is not one of those who would pay to follow the Dragonborn. But she must know more about it."

People would pay to follow her? Yssha winced inwardly at that, but nodded to Kiraya. "I appreciate that, and had expected to pay, should you accept the job. I will admit it is a dangerous one, as part of what we do is collect and permanently dispose of dangerous Daedric artifacts. More usual, however, are Dwemer and Nordic ruins, with draugr sometimes up to Dragon Priest level, bandits, necromancers, and the like. And it involves riding a dragon, of course."

"This one has had the impression the Dragonborn's team was all mages. The only magic Kiraya knows is enough Restoration to heal herself, and provide first aid to others."

Yssha smiled. "That is all you need, truly. Marcurio, Brother Erandur, and I are all mages, and I have my Shouts as well. What we need is a competent archer, as my crossbow does not reload as quickly as I would like. If you are better than the average Khajiit at stealth, that would be a pleasant bonus."

Kiraya chuckle-purred. "This one has had to live by stealth at times, and not always in strict compliance with the law. She was only caught once, and that turned out fortunately. One wonders if this would be a disqualification."

"Not to me," Yssha replied, amused. "Would it disqualify me as an employer that I am Master of the Skyrim Thieves Guild? That fact is not widely known, of course."

Kiraya stared at her potential employer, then purred in delight. "Not at all! This one would be most honored to serve the Master Thief of Skyrim, provided the pay is adequate."

Yssha chuckle-purred, amused again. Being Dragonborn didn't particularly impress her fellow Suthay, but being Guildmaster did? She was going to like Kiraya, she was suddenly certain. "And what amount would that be?"

"Normally, Kiraya would charge the standard five hundred septims, but she promised a small discount to Andreius' friend, and will double it for the Master Thief, out of respect. Four hundred fifty septims. And, of course, food and lodging."

"You are hired." Yssha counted out the necessary amount and handed it over. "Also, unless you have a particular fondness for unadorned leather, I will attach dragonscales to what you are wearing. I like my team in the best armor they are comfortable with."

"Like yours?" Kiraya looked intrigued. "Does it hamper movement?"

"Not noticeably," Yssha replied. "We look to be much of a size, so why not try it when we get home?"

Kiraya nodded. "That would indeed make this one's decision easier," she said, smiling. "This one will be ready in a few minutes, time enough to add a few last-minute items to her pack."

"That is fine. When you are ready, you need to meet Odahviing, then we will fly home and introduce you around."

Yssha was impressed when Kiraya rejoined them. The bow slung on her back was ebony, as were her arrows. The bow wasn't enchanted, but that could be corrected, if Kiraya wanted, once they got home.

When they got to where Odahviing was waiting, though, Yssha stopped in shock. He was nose-to-nose with a long-furred white Alfiq. It looked like a staring contest, but certainly didn't have that feel - it _felt_ more like ... she couldn't quite identify it. The closest she could come would be a reunion between long-lost brothers, but that was beyond ridiculous. Granted, Khajiiti called Bormah Alkosh the First Cat, and some thought that dragons were "just real big cats", but still - !

Then the eye contact broke, the Alfiq leaped to Odahviing's nose, and paced majestically up between his eyes, to curl around his central horn, purring happily.

Yssha approached cautiously, but Odahviing raised his head and gape-grinned. "You are surprised, thuri? So am I. It seems Bormahu has decided to renew an ancient alliance between dov and malkaaz ... I scarcely remember it, but it is pleasant to feel Whitefur in my mind."

"I do not understand, but if it pleases you, I am happy for you, vahriini. Will such happen often?"

Odahviing gape-grinned. "It was rare even when it was commonest, thuri. But both we and our malkaazze gain status, and our magic supplements each other's."

"I did not know Alfiq were mages," Yssha said, puzzled. "They cannot speak, and do not have hands, so how can they cast spells?"

"Extremely focused concentration," Odahviing replied. "Other mages need the spoken spell and gestures to provide that focus; a talented Alfiq does not. The spells charge in their mouths, not the palms of hands they do not have. Whitefur will demonstrate, if you like."

Yssha thought about that for a moment, then her eyes widened, and she smiled. "Yes, please, little cousin. I would very much like to see your Flames spell, if you would be so kind."

Whitefur cat-grinned, opening his mouth slightly, and Yssha was fascinated to see a flame spell charge. When he cast it on a nearby rock. It looked briefly like he was breathing fire, and Yssha caught her breath in delight. "Why is this not common knowledge?" she asked.

Odahviing shrugged. "Only some are mages, and unless they are partnered with a dovah, not particularly strong. Also, they are untrained, and the gifted ones find out by accident. So one like Whitefur is rare."

"It is unfortunate Alfiq cannot speak or write," Yssha said. "It seems unkind of the Divines to make them intelligent, but unable to communicate."

Whitefur and Odahviing both nodded. "At one time, they could write Dovahzul, though it seems they have forgotten," Odahviing said. "The extra claw gives them a strange 'accent', and the writing is so tiny it can be difficult to read, but if Whitefur wishes, I will teach him our alphabet. And as long as he is with me, I can speak for him."

"Well, he will certainly be welcome at Lakeview," Yssha said, turning her attention to Whitefur. "Be patient with my adopted son, please. He has never seen an Alfiq, so it may take him a bit of time to realize you are not a domestic cat."

Whitefur gave her a very dignified nod. "He will be patient," Odahviing said. "He understands and usually likes young ones."

"Then shall we leave, so Kiraya can get settled in?"

* * *

After trying Yssha's armor and finding it didn't hamper her movement, Kiraya accepted her offer to turn her own armor into warmth and magic-resistant dragonscale. She was delighted when Yssha went further, and offered to enchant her bow as well, with fear and paralysis spells. Her beloved ebony bow was being made even better! She was certain her mentor, who'd given it to her, would approve.

Yssha was equally glad to give Kiraya improved armor and weapon. Not only would it help Kiraya, it was in the team's best interest, and she simply enjoyed helping people she liked.


	45. The Forsworn Conspiracy

.

Chapter 45 - The Forsworn Conspiracy

Before they went to Markarth for some alchemy supplies Yssha knew the Hag's Cure carried, she briefed Erandur and Kiraya on how to act. "My position is rather peculiar, you know. I am well known as both Dragonborn and Stormcrown, but I tend to get involved in matters both the Emperor and Penitus Oculatus would prefer I leave to more conventional people. Not deliberately, for the most part, but I seem to attract trouble. Mostly, I prefer to handle it myself, but if I need help, Marcurio will know, so take your cues from him. Well, unless we are someplace like a dungeon or bandit camp, of course, where everyone not-us or an obvious prisoner is an enemy."

Erandur nodded, and Kiraya chuckle-purred. "Is Kiraya to understand we are to do nothing, even if you are attacked, unless Marcurio indicates otherwise?"

"Correct, especially in town or with guards around. They will overlook things from me that they would arrest you for."

"Kiraya understands, and will comply, though if it's a good fight, she might be jealous."

Yssha purred. "I understand, as well. Do not worry, you will see action; I just do not want either of you getting into legal trouble if it is not necessary."

Erandur chuckled. "That's thoughtful of you, Dragonborn. I'm sure Mara would approve."

* * *

That instruction got its first test almost as soon as they entered the gates. A woman making a purchase at Endon's jewelry stall was attacked by a man with a knife, and she fell. He started to flee, yelling, "The Reach belongs to the Forsworn!"

The Markarth City Guards were on him immediately, and he went down, saying, "I die for my people."

While the Guards tried to calm the market crowd, Yssha checked the woman's body, pocketing a key, then standing back up. As the crowd trickled away, a Breton man approached her. "Gods. A woman attacked right on the streets. Are you all right? Did you see what happened?"

"Yes, but not soon enough to stop the murder, unfortunately."

The Breton stooped down, then rose, handing her a slip of paper. "Oh, I think you dropped this. Some kind of note. Looks important."

Yssha hid a smile, but played along. "Thank you." She opened and read it. "Ah. I had almost forgotten, I am supposed to meet someone. Can you tell me how to find the Shrine of Talos?"

"Huh. Not sure. I don't worship Talos, myself. I think I heard someone mention it was underneath the Temple of Dibella, in the big crag in the center of the city."

"Thank you. Perhaps we will meet again later."

The Breton left, and she grinned at her team. "A drink at the inn first, I think, then we shall see what is going on."

A quarter hour later, they were in the Shrine, and she took time for a brief prayer, then turned to the Breton. "That was not exactly subtle. What is it you want with me?"

"I'm sorry to drag you into Markarth's problems, but after that attack in the market, I'm running out of time."

"What are you talking about?"

"You want answers? Well so do I. So does everyone in this city. A man goes crazy in the market. Everyone knows he's a Forsworn agent. Guards do nothing. Nothing but clean up the mess."

"Go on," she prompted.

"This has been going on for years. And all I've been able to find is murder and blood. I need help. Please. You find out why that woman was attacked, who's behind Weylin and the Forsworn, and I'll pay you for any information you bring me."

"You are looking at the murders?"

"Yes. It all started when I was a boy. My father owned one of the mines. Rare for anyone who isn't a Nord. He was killed. Guards said it was just a madman, but everyone knew the murderer was a member of the Forsworn. I've been trying to find out why ever since. Gotten nowhere so far, and then I got married. Have a child of my own on the way. I swore I was going to just give up, for my child's sake, but it's like my father's ghost is haunting me. Asking me 'Why?'"

Hmm, that was interesting, and not a good sign that Jarl Igmund had apparently done nothing. But she doubted that either Erandur or Kiraya knew much about the Reach, so she asked, "Who are the Forsworn?

"They're remnants of the old rulers of Markarth. Natives of the Reach. Followers of the old ways. The Nords drove them out of the city. Ulfric Stormcloak and his men. That was about twenty years ago. But somehow they're still here, and they're killing people."

"Who was the killer? Where did he live?"

"His name was Weylin. He was one of the smelter workers. I used to have a job down there myself, casting silver ingots. I never knew much about him, except he lived in the Warrens, like all the other workers."

"And what do you know about the murdered woman?"

"She's not from Markarth. The air about her screamed "outsider." Visitors to the city usually stay at the Silver-Blood Inn."

"Thank you. I will investigate."

The team returned to the inn and took a large room, then Yssha went in search of the woman's room. She found it, then a journal in the bedside table that she took back to the team's room to read.

The woman's name turned out to be Margret, and she was a Legion intelligence agent for General Tullius.

"Meeting at the Treasury House later today. Took them long enough. These people act like they own everything.

"Thonar Silver-Blood is the younger brother, but he's obviously the one in charge. Makes all the deals, bullies local landowners into selling to him. Even employs that wispy girl at the door to deter 'trouble-makers' like me.

"General Tullius is growing impatient, but I'll bring back the deed to Cidhna Mine. On my life, I won't allow a group of Stormcloak sympathizers to own the prison to the most notorious criminals of the Reach. They say no one escapes. Why? Is it really that secure?

"Maybe I've played my hand too soon by rushing the confrontation with Thonar. There are shadows around every corner in this city, and I know I'm being watched."

Yssha snarled, seriously disturbed. If Tullius saw the need to send in a spy rather than rely on the Legate attached to every Jarl, the corruption must go very deep indeed. Although, since the Reach Hold and Markarth City Guards were independent, not Legion, he might not be involved. She found paper and a quill pen, to write Tullius a note explaining Margret's death and what she'd found, and added a bit of her own. "This is of course your jurisdiction, my friend, but in your place, I would send copies of all this to High King Balgruuf and the Emperor. Until I receive a response from you, I will continue my investigations."

She went outside the city, called Odahviing, and smiled when he landed, Whitefur draped around his central horn. And that gave her an idea. "Would you mind taking something to General Tullius for me, cousin? It will require you to either carry it in your mouth or around your neck, and it will be somewhat clumsy for you, but it is important."

Whitefur nodded, and Odahviing translated his answer. "Around his neck if it is clumsy, thuri. But he is pleased to be able to help."

Yssha smiled at the Alfiq. "Thank you, cousin Whitefur. It is a journal the General should see, plus a note from me." She found a pouch that would hold the journal and her note, and tied it around his neck, then lifted him back up to Odahviing's head. "Be careful getting down," she cautioned. "General Tullius will probably be in his map room, second room through the door with two guards."

* * *

Odahviing landed in the Castle Dour courtyard, calling a greeting to Dovgrahaak up on the battlements, pleased with the other dovah's startled look. "Is that a _malkaaz_?" Dovgrahaak asked.

"He is indeed. Dovgrahaak, I introduce Whitefur. It seems Bormahu has seen fit to restore that particular bond, as Dovahkiin is restoring other things." He lowered his head to the ground so Whitefur could dismount more easily, then turned his attention to the door guards. "Would one of you be so kind as to show Whitefur to General Tullius and introduce him?"

One of them smiled, nodding. "Of course, Odahviing. If you'll come with me, Master Whitefur?"

Moments later, they were in the map room, and the soldier cleared her throat. "General Tullius? Excuse me, sir, but you have a visitor, sent by Odahviing."

Tullius frowned when he looked up. "What are you doing with a cat, soldier?"

"Ah, he's the visitor, sir. His name is Whitefur."

The introduction made, Whitefur jumped onto the map table, butting his head against Tullius' hand.

Tullius was confused briefly, seeing a cat carrying a package, then he made the connection. "Good day, Whitefur. It's been a long time since I've seen an Alfiq-form Khajiit; I hope you'll forgive me for calling you a cat." He unfastened the package while Whitefur nodded, purring agreement.

Tullius read the journal and note, and swore. "Rikke!"

"Sir?"

"Major problems in Markarth - get to our Reach outpost and take a detachment to the city. If it's as bad as Ysmir seems to think, we may need to replace the City Guard with a Legion garrison. Ask Dovgrahaak for dragon transport for you and the detachment."

"At once, sir." Rikke left, and Tullius turned back to Whitefur.

"Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

Whitefur shook his head and jumped back off the table, then paced toward the door.

* * *

Yssha's next step was to visit Weylin's room in the Warrens. There was someone standing just outside the Warrens door, so she stopped to talk, but he gave her a searching look and spoke first. "The Warrens isn't a place for your type, Ysmir. It's where you go if you can't afford a room anywhere else. About the time they opened the mines, someone got the idea to throw beds - well, piles of straw - in."

"I understand this is not a desirable place to stay, and that only those who can find no other place live here."

"That's right. Welcome to Markarth, Ysmir. Thank the Divines you can choose to live somewhere else. Laborers. The sick. The lame. We're all here."

"It is unfortunate you must live so," she said sympathetically. But I am investigating a problem. Did you know Weylin?"

"Oh yes. I know everyone who sleeps in the Warrens. Kind of the one who passes the keys around. I guess someone else will be taking his room, now."

"So it would seem," Yssha replied. "May I borrow that key?"

The man shrugged. "Can't do any harm, so sure." He handed her the key. "Last room on the right. Hope you find something helpful."

"Thank you." When they entered the Warrens, she discovered that while they didn't smell quite as bad as the Cistern and Flagon, they otherwise made the Thieves Guild quarters look good. She made her way hastily to the last door on the right, and searched it quickly but thoroughly - not difficult, since it held little, and the only thing of significance was a note to Weylin.

"Weylin,

"You've been chosen to strike fear in the heart of the Nords. Go to the market tomorrow. You will know what to do.

"-N"

She sighed. Now she'd have to find out who this "N" was. She returned the key, and the team left the Warrens - to be confronted by a Breton who looked like a hired thug. He quickly confirmed that. "You've been digging around where you don't belong. It's time you learned a lesson."

Yssha sighed. "Who are you working for?"

"Someone who doesn't like you asking questions."

Marcurio laughed. "Before you take her on, you might want to decide if you're feeling suicidal."

That clearly puzzled the Breton. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Look closely, friend," Marcurio said amusedly. "A Khajiit woman with seal-brown muzzle and tail wearing dragonscale armor and carrying a dragonbone mace - that description remind you of anyone?"

The Breton thought for a moment, then frowned. "Oh, frack. Divines. Nepos sent me after the Dragonborn?" At that point, he backed down rapidly. "Sorry, Ysmir, no disrespect intended. I was sent by Nepos the Nose. The old man hands out the orders. He told me to make sure you didn't get in the way. An' that's all I know. Nepos."

"I believe you. Thank you for your assistance." She smiled as he left, acting like he couldn't get away from her fast enough, and she heard a chuckle-purr from Kiraya.

"That was amusing. Does it happen often?"

"No, at least not since our battle with Alduin. It is rare to find anyone, these days, willing to go up against me one-on-one. Even fewer willing to go up against me and my team, other than a dungeon or equivalent."

"Ah, well. That could be disappointing. What's next?"

Yssha sighed. Nepos or Thonar Silver-Blood? Thonar, she thought. "The Treasury House," she replied, and they began climbing higher in the city. The Treasury House wasn't too far from Vlindrel Hall, her Markarth residence, though she'd never been inside. Come to that, Nepos the Nose's house wasn't far from hers, either. Well, Thonar first anyway.

She knew the Silverbloods lived there, so her best bet would probably be to find his room and search for a journal. She explained to her team, and Marcurio chuckled. "Okay, we'll wait in the Inn. We'd just get in the way on that sort of mission."

"Especially if I have to use invisibility potions," Yssha agreed. "So I will see what I can find, then join you there. It should not take long."

She was directed to Thonar's combination office and living quarters by telling the desk clerk she was expected. She spared a glance at the strongroom behind the desk, remembering that Brynjolf, back when she was new in the Guild, had told her Delvin had a Bedlam job here for her. Getting into that strongroom would've been fun, and she was certain she could've gotten enough out of there to more than fulfill Delvin's conditions. She hid a sigh as she approached Thonar's rooms. That had been back when things were much simpler.

She was stealthed when she entered and looked around. She'd gotten good enough at this that Thonar paid no attention to her while she searched his room, without finding anything incriminating. That left the only possibility that it was something so sensitive he kept it on his person, which meant pickpocketing him.

She left his valuables, taking only a journal, which she didn't read until she was back outside.

"Madanach is becoming unruly. You'd think that twenty years in prison would calm a beast like him down a bit. Maybe I should have let the Jarl execute him after the uprising after all.

"Still, he's been invaluable in getting rid of several 'problems' over the years. Maybe I'm overreacting. No one knows about our little arrangement. Not even the Forsworn. I wonder how they would react knowing their 'King in Rags' was one of my most important assets?

"This little shadow rebellion of his better not start to include me, though. If I find out he's even thinking about double-crossing me, I'll make sure he dies inside Cidhna Mine, like the animal he is."

Now that was interesting. It sounded very much like this Madanach was coordinating the Forsworn attacks from prison, with Thonar Silverblood arranging for at least some of them.

What next? She should probably report this, but she'd really rather have a bit more in the line of evidence, and that thug who'd backed down said Nepos the Nose had sent him. Nepos was a respected and wealthy man, very reclusive. She'd never spoken to him, and she was reluctant to disturb him, but if he had any information, she needed to visit him. She stopped by the inn to tell her team she'd be a bit longer, which they didn't seem to like, but they didn't object.

"Sss." Kiraya hissed, as soon as Yssha left, and Erandur frowned. "What is it?"

"Something feels ... wrong, to this one." Kiraya moved her shoulders, as though they held an uncomfortable weight.

Macurio alerted. Khajiit had some odd sense of impending danger, and he wasn't about to ignore Kiraya's. "Any idea what we should do?"

"Follow her. Stealthed, weapons drawn," the Khajiit said. "It feels like ... this one cannot be sure, but perhaps an amubush, perhaps something else, but more than a single thug, and without help, she will perish."

Marcurio prepared spells, then looked at Kiraya. "Lead on, little friend. We're on your heels."

Yssha had a feeling she was being followed as she walked up the stairways to Nepos' door. She didn't see anyone, but if they were half-decent at stealth, or using invisibility potions, she wouldn't, and she didn't sense any hostility.

When Nepos' maid Uaile opened the door, she was reluctant to admit Yssha, but Nepos interrupted. "Wait. It's okay, my dear. Send her in."

Uaile wasn't happy about that, but obeyed. "Hmph. Yes, Nepos." Her attention went back to Yssha. "You heard him. Go on in."

She found Nepos sitting near the fireplace, a book on his lap. "I'm sorry about my housekeeper," he said. "She's a little protective of me. Now, what is it you want?"

Yssha had decided to be blunt. "A little information. Why did you send a thug to beat me up?"

"Ah, yes." Nepos smiled, though it looked forced. "You've proven to be a real bloodhound. Well, you've sniffed me out. I've been playing this game for almost twenty years. Sending the young to their deaths. All in the name of the Forsworn. And I'm tired. So tired."

Yssha frowned. "Why do you do it, then?"

"Because my king told me to. Madanach. When the uprising fell at the hands of the Nords, they threw him in the mines. I don't know how, but he lives. I get his messages, and I hand out his orders without question."

"This has something to do with the Forsworn?"

She didn't really expect an answer, much less the confession she got.

"Markarth and the Reach are our lands. That is why we are the Forsworn. We cannot claim the home that is rightly ours. But then during their war with the elves, we had our moment. We drove the Nords out of the Reach in a great uprising. Then Ulfric and his men came. Those of us who didn't run were executed, except for myself, my king, and a handful of others.

"Madanach is the King in Rags. A man who once held all the Reach within his grip. He stokes the passions of the downtrodden in this city. Directs them to kill the enemies of the Forsworn in our name. All from inside Cidhna Mine. A Nord prison. The irony is quite thick."

Her hand hovered near the grip of her mace. This was not going to end well, and she found herself hoping her team had disobeyed her, this one time. "Why are you telling me all this?"

His reply was calm. "My dear Dragonborn, what makes you think you're getting out of here alive? You were seen coming in. The girl at the door is a Forsworn agent masquerading as a maid. You aren't the first one to have gotten this far. You won't be the last." He and his three servants drew weapons and attacked her.

She'd barely gotten a grip on her mace and drawn breath for a Shout when she had to use her arm to block a sword while she hastily cast ice spikes at whoever was in reach. Thank the divines for dragon armor! She'd have a nasty bruise there, but at least she wouldn't have to regenerate her arm. She'd gotten her back to a wall, so at least none of them could get behind her, and she had enough breath to Shout. "Fus ... Ro Dah!" threw them all back, then, "Zuun ... Haal Viik!" disarmed them, Nepos cast Flames at her, and she threw up a hasty ward, hearing a battering at the door. Seconds later, Marcurio was at her side, Erandur and Kiraya kicking weapons away from the fallen servants and disarming Nepos.

"Are you okay?" Marcurio demanded.

"I will have a large and colorful bruise later, but I am fine." She looked around, then heard the familiar sound of Legion armor, and Rikke's equally-familiar voice. "Everything under control, Ysmir?"

She was curious what her friend was doing in Markarth, but that could come later. "It is now. I will need some troopers to place Nepos and his servants under arrest for treason, specifically attacking the Stormcrown."

Rikke gave the necessary orders, and Legionnaires hauled the prisoners away after binding them. Then she turned to Yssha. "What now, Ysmir? From your note, General Tullius thinks you may need us to garrison the city. I've got a detachment of Legionnaires and the Skyguard who got us here in a hurry."

Yssha nodded. "There is widespread corruption here involving the Silver-Blood family, and I would not be - " She snarled a curse, sprinting out the door, calling for the rest to follow, picking up a couple of more Legionnaires and Skyguards on the way to the Talos Shrine. She slowed to a walk as she neared it, then gave orders. "Come with me. Stay back as far as you can and still be able to hear anything that is said. I hope to meet the man who alerted me to the conspiracy here, but ... I fear for his safety, after what I found out, especially from Nepos."

She got acknowledgement, then opened the Shrine door and led them inside, hand close to her mace and ready to Shout if necessary. She swore when she saw Eltrys on the floor in a pool of blood, with half a dozen Markarth City Guards waiting with drawn swords.

"What did you do to Eltrys?" she asked.

"Same thing we do with all the other natives who want to change things around here," one of the Guards replied. "We had a nice little deal going between Thonar and Madanach until you and Eltrys started snooping around. Well, you wanted to find the man responsible for those killings? Dragonborn or not, you'll have plenty of time with the King in rags when you're in Cidhna Mine."

Yssha sighed. Were these men stupid, delusional, or both? "I think not. You are corrupt. Thonar is paying you."

"Yeah. We have a nice arrangement in this city, and we're not letting you get in the way. You have a problem with that? Take it up with Madanach. I'm sure the King in rags and his Forsworn would love to meet you. Now you're coming with us. It's a life sentence in Cidhna Mine for you."

Yssha signalled for the rest to join her, telling the Markarth Guards, "Drop your weapons. You are under arrest, on my authority as a Legion officer. Charges will begin with murder, corruption, and dereliction of duty. Others may be added as the Legion investigation determines."

Erandur pushed past the guards, kneeling beside Eltrys' body, his hands beginning to glow with the gold of Restoration magic. Marcurio joined him as Yssha heard a muffled cough, and smiled. So Eltrys wasn't dead after all! Badly hurt, certainly, from all the blood, but alive.

"Not treason, Ysmir?" A voice behind her sounded disappointed.

"They did not try to attack me," Yssha pointed out. "I doubt threatening me with a prison sentence rises to the level of treason, since it was not a thing they could do." She paused. "Oh, and make that murder charge attempted murder instead, since it seems they failed."

"No treason? Too bad," Rikke said. "I'll get the garrison established immediately, and find out whether or not Legate Emmanuel was involved in any way."

Yssha smiled. "I will leave that in your most capable hands, then. I will report to General Tullius on my way home. I thank you for your help."

* * *

Author's note: Yes, I've been telling most of this story from Yssha's POV, but I couldn't resist seeing Tullius' reaction to what looks like a housecat bringing him a message. (Turned out less dramatic than I'd expected, but it was still fun to write. And for reasons you'll see later, you'll be getting more of an omniscient POV.)


	46. Catching Up

.

* * *

Late 5E 2, various places and dates

Yssha and her team went with Jarl Igmund and Legates Emmanuel and Rikke when a trooper reported Dovgrahaak landing outside Markarth with General Tullius and his bodyguard. The two groups met just inside the city gates, and Tullius addressed Rikke. "Report, Legate."

"Sir." Rikke grinned. "If anything, Ysmir's forebodings were under-estimates. As soon as we found her, she placed four people under arrest for treason, specifically attacking the Stormcrown. Then she led us to the city's Shrine of Talos, where her initial informant had been attacked - fortunately not quite killed, and the priest of Mara who's part of her current team was able to stabilize him."

"With assistance from Marcurio," Erandur added. "He's in the Temple of Dibella now, being tended by their healer-priestesses." He smiled. "My lady Mara is pleased that his wife and unborn child will not lose him, though his healing may take a week or two."

"I'm glad of that as well," Igmund said grimly. "I knew I had problems with both the Forsworn and the Silver-Blood clan, but I didn't realize how bad it was, or how closely they were intertwined. My Guards, both Hold and City, seem to've been thoroughly corrupted." He turned to Tullius. "This is a hard thing for a Jarl to admit, General, but I would appreciate it if the Legion could take over temporarily from both Reach Hold and Markarth City guards. I'll reinstate any who prove not to've been involved, but until I can do that, I don't want them anywhere near even a little bit of power."

"It will be done," Tullius promised. "Would you like me to detail some of my intelligence assets to you for the purpose?"

"I'd appreciate that," Igmund replied, "since I clearly can't trust my Guard investigators."

"Let me check with the Grandmaster of the Blades," Yssha said. "She may have some trained well enough by now to begin practical work."

"The Blades?" Igmund exclaimed, clearly astonished. "I thought the Thalmor wiped them out"!

Even Tullius was giving her a puzzled look, so she explained. "Not totally. Three managed to survive, including my greats-grandmother Ysshaya, who is now their Grandmaster. They are currently rebuilding and training; it is possible some are ready for field work."

"I'll be grateful for their help, if so," Igmund said. "Divines, what a mess! Especially the Silver-Bloods. Great chaos, they own - or owned - half the city, including Cidhna Mine."

"We'll take that over, if you want," Tullius said. "It's a prison, after all, and the Empire has nothing against prisoners paying for their own support. Thirty-seventy?

"Yes, but make it ten-ninety. You only have the Legionnaires acting as prison guards to pay, where I'm going to be coping with total economic chaos."

Tullius considered that for a moment, then nodded. "You have a point, and it's in the Empire's interest to work with you. Ten-ninety."

"Thank you, General. You'll find me most cooperative."

* * *

Helgen was rapidly becoming one of the most prosperous cities in Skyrim, and Skyhold as a whole prosperous as well, which pleased Yssha in one way. It meant she'd be leaving her heirs something valuable, and she'd already planned to abdicate her Jarldom as soon as her heir was old enough to handle the responsibilities. The bad part, as far as she was personally concerned, was that prosperity naturally attracted people, so Helgen was spreading out, even beyond the walls, to the point she wasn't that fond of visiting, even for her weekly audiences.

Still, she did enjoy seeing the friends she'd made there, and the ones, like Wujeeta, who'd moved to Helgen from other places. All of the Khajiit caravans stopped here, these days, at least occasionally. She'd noticed that Kiraya seemed to enjoy Kharjo's company when Ahkari's was in town, which it was, so when her team irrived for today's audiences, she wasn't too surprised to see them meet near the Helgen Inn, and disappear inside. She smiled at that, pretty sure Kiraya would enjoy the next hour or so more than she would.

Not that she had that much to do, once she'd checked Lydia's handling of daily affairs, almost invariably approving them. Lydia would probably make a better Jarl, in fact, except that the people of Skyhold were so proud of having Dovahkiin the Stormcrown as their very own ruler. So usually once she was done with Lydia, she usually spent an hour or two sitting on her throne and chatting with whoever wanted to talk.

That included Ragnar, her architect, who approached her with a smile. "Good news, Ysmir. Windstad Manor is complete, ahead of schedule and under budget. Your housecarl Valdimar has moved in and begun the furnishing. We'll be starting Heljarchen Hall on Morndas."

Yssha returned the smile. "That is wonderful! Rayya - and probably everyone else - will be happy to have the noise and smells of my crafting out of Lakeview. There is less hurry on Heljarchen, since it is going to be primarily a base for clan adventurers, if any choose to take their year here. And until it is completed, I do have other places for them to stay."

Ragnar chuckled. "I understand, Ysmir. But it's my only current project, and I'm seldom given such a free hand, so I wouldn't expect it to take an undue amount of time."

* * *

Blackreach was getting better organized, now that its Falmer had become Odmer, it was an official if as yet undeveloped Hold, and had a Jarl. Gelebor was turning out to be a better ruler than Nevan would have expected, especially for a formerly-reclusive priest, and he supported their researches whole-heartedly.

He'd taken the largest building in the newly-named Central City for his Palace, then let the researchers pick out suitable buildings for a library, laboratories, workshops, and living quarters. Only then had he begun allowing others to settle in Central City, establishing shops and homes. For now, the Hold and City guards were hired Skyguard, until Odmer could be recruited and trained. Yes, there was fraternization; Odmer were as attractive as Altmer, without the Thalmor's attitude of superiority. That had been all, so far, but Nevan and Serana agreed it was only a matter of time before at least a few Nord-Odmer pairings got formalized.

* * *

A private breakfast with the Emperor and Crown Prince the morning after their arrival wasn't something either Andreius or Sorcalin had expected, but it proved surprisingly pleasant. When they said private, it meant the four of them, no courtiers, and only servants to bring the meal. Once everyone had been served, the Emperor smiled. "Grams says you've both been fighting for the Empire beside her since well before I was born. So in private, we're Titus, Gaius, Andreius, and Sorcalin. Formality in public, of course." He grinned at Andreius. "So is it General Hargan, or Nerevarine?"

"General Hargan, please," Andreius replied. And Sorcalin is Master Mage, since he was never in the Legion."

Emperor and Crown Prince nodded. "All right. Enjoy your breakfast; there'll be a full staff briefing in an hour."

* * *

The briefing/war room was quite familiar. Andreius had lost track of how many of these he'd been in during his life. Map table with flagged pins, other maps on the walls along with portraits of some known enemy higher-ups, a sand table off to one side with arrangements of symbols for units preparing for the most likely next battle, and the generals he'd met the previous day.

Prince Gaius addressed him. "General Hargan, it seems you've not been in too close touch with the general staff of late, so what do you need to know?"

"I've been moving around, until the Divine Crusader convinced me to get involved with the Empire again," Andreius said. "Not really in touch at all, so if I'm to help you, I'll need a full briefing."

"Very well." The prince smiled. "An overview first. We're actually in pretty good shape in the north." His smile became more of a feral grin as he continued. "Last time the Thalmor defeated us because they caught us by surprise and completely unprepared. This time, however, thanks to the Dragonborn and Skyguard, the war started on our terms."

He gestured at the map. "Skyrim, Cyrodiil, High Rock, and Hammerfell are secure, and with Skyguard reconnaissance, the Thalmor won't even be able to get any forces close. The only part of Cyrodiil that's in any danger at all is the Anvil-Kvatch-Skingrad region, but we have Legions in all three places, with smaller outposts in between. Also close to the river are a couple of forts and the Priory of the Nine, again with smaller outposts."

"Have you gotten in touch with Stalks-the-Storm?" Andreius asked. It was hard to believe the Argonians had actually united under the equivalent of a king, but it was a good thing for the Empire.

"Yes, and he's sent warriors. Some of those are patrolling in the Strid River itself, which adds a nice bit of extra security.

"Elsweyr's under Imperal control, except for the borders with Valenwood and the southernmost area near the coast. We've detected no incursions around Morrowind, which isn't surprising considering how little's left there since Red Mountain blew up. Argonia's essentially invasion-proof thanks to the Hist."

He gestured to the map as he spoke. "So you can see the pattern. This side of the Strid, we're in control; the Thalmor have the other. Most of the Legions are making sure they don't cross, but it's basically an impasse. The Thalmor can't get very far from the border without getting spotted and killed, but on the other hand, unless we start a scorched-earth invasion, we can't take Valenwood by force.

"As for other strongpoints, Stros M'kai and that Scimitar Island off Anvil have garrisons, Legion, Fleet and Skyguard.

"Riverhold, Dune, and Torval in Elsweyr are the main bases there, with a smaller camp between Riverhold and Dune, two larger ones between Dune and Torval. Behind the main lines, we have a Home Guard of retired Legionnaires and civilian volunteers who should be able to hold out until the Skyguard can arrive."

"That all sounds good to me," Andreius said. It was definitely more and better resources than he'd had in Morrowind when trying to become Nerevarine. "I assume you have guerrillas working behind the lines in Valenwood."

"Of course," one of the other generals said. "Unfortunately, the Bosmer have learned from their last, ah, dispute with the Khajiiti, so they aren't as effective as we'd like." She shrugged. "They do some damage, of course, but the Bosmer learned from _Mixed Unit Tactics_ almost as well as we did."

She chuckled. "Magic-wielding Alfiq have intrigued me ever since I read that manual. And I understand one has bonded to the Stormcrown's friend Odahviing. Divines, but I'd love it if that happened to me - I've always liked felines, and suspected them of having abilities they won't show us mere humans."

Andreius grinned. "I wouldn't be surprised." He turned back to the Crown Prince. "I see nothing I can suggest that isn't already being done, Your Highness, at least strategically. But may I ask if you plan to be leading troops in the field?"

"Of course, General. I'm a Legate, and that's what Legates do." Gaius smiled slightly. "I'm Crown Prince, but I'm also the lowest-ranking Legion officer in this room. Any one of you can send me into combat, and I'd do so happily. I'd very much like to lead an invasion of the Summerset Isles."

Andreius nodded. "And have any arrangements been made for your security?"

Gaius shrugged. "No more than for any other Legate."

"That'll have to change," Andreius said firmly. "You're not 'any other Legate', Highness; you're the Imperial Heir. I'm going to find some battle-tested veterans to form a combat bodyguard for you, and you're going to start training with them."

The Crown Prince looked briefly rebellious, but he nodded. "You have a point, General. Very well; find your veterans, and I'll work with them."


	47. Making Their Move

Author's Note: I'm changing the rating to M here, just for safety. Most will remain T, actually, but there are some incidents in the following chapters that skirt the boundaries of T, so I thought caution would be wise.

* * *

Chapter 47 - Making Their Move

16 Morning Star , 5E 3

Nerissa and Ungarion sat in their room in Candlehearth Hall, perhaps six months after their arrival in Skyrim. "Paarthurnax and the Greybeards, then?" Nerissa asked.

Ungarion nodded. "With one modification, I think. I'll kill one of the quiet ones first, to show we have both the will and the capability. Then we threaten her with the death of the rest."

"All right. Try to find out the name, if you can. You don't want me to go along?"

"I don't think so. Illusion isn't your strongest School, and I think the best way is to sneak into their monastery invisibly, listen for a while, and pick the one she's least attached to, if I can tell, so the threat to the rest will be more effective."

Nerissa smiled. "Good thinking, lover. I'll go to the ship and wait for you."

"If you want, but it's a several day trip to Ivarstead, then call it a day to get up the mountain, infiltrate, and make my choice. You might as well be comfortable here."

"All right. I'll spend some time putting the finishing touches on the ward spells for her cell, then."

"That sounds good. I'll 'port to the ship when I'm done, and send a messenger for you."

* * *

Ungarion went invisible when he reached Shroud Hearth Barrow, unsaddling his horse and leaving it to its own devices. He avoided the village, heading up the Seven Thousand Steps. It was a tedious plod, but not particularly difficult. His major challenge was getting inside the monastery without his opening of the door alerting them to an intruder. He ended up following one from the courtyard inside before the door could close again.

To his irritation, they spoke very little, and when they did, it wasn't about the Dragonborn - more about their meditations. Once he decided he wasn't going to get the information he wanted, he picked one of the silent ones at random, and waited until he got the monk's name.

After that, it was a simple matter of waiting till his target went to bed and fell asleep. He debated leaving a Thalmor token, but decided there would be no point. The Dark Brotherhood was no more, and who other than the Dominion would have a reason to want the Dragonborn's teachers vulnerable?

Although he seldom used them, Ungarion knew several ways to kill quickly and silently. The monk died with a blade under his ear and into his brain, then Ungarion cut his throat and let blood start to pool. Once he was satisfied with the scene he was leaving, he teleported to the cabin he and Nerissa shared aboard the _Pride of Alinor_. He sent the promised messenger, and half an hour later, she joined him. "How did it go?"

"Smooth as velvet," he assured her. "Things should get interesting up there when the others find the body."

* * *

19 Morning Star, 5E 3

Shortly after dawn, Yssha heard a familiar call. "Dovahkiin!" But it was Arngeir, not a dragon! She dressed as quickly as she could, grabbing her mace, and ran outside to see Odahviing landing. She mounted hastily, not waiting for her team. "High Hrothgar!"

When they landed in the rear courtyard, three of the Greybeards were waiting, and she frowned to see Master Borri missing. She dismounted and ran to Arngeir. "What is it, Master?"

"Come with me." She followed him inside, and to the sleeping area, where she saw the remains. "Master Borri!" Then she turned to Arngeir. "How did this happen?"

"I don't know - we found no traces of the killer when we searched. Paarthurnax has restored his defenses, just in case, and we'll be keeping watch ourselves."

Yssha's shoulders slumped. "I will ask the Skyguard for extra patrols in this area, but if someone could sneak in and kill Master Borri in your midst, I do not know how much good that will do."

"Actually, though we'll take precautions, I think you're the real target, Dragonborn. Please, don't let whoever did this use us against you."

That was something Yssha couldn't promise. Whoever the murderer was had found the weakest available spot in her armor, and already used it once to stab her. She wouldn't tolerate any more of this kind of wound, and would do anything in her power to stop it.

Arngeir sighed. "I see my words are useless. But Dragonborn, keep in mind that you are more valuable than we are."

"That may be, but I am also immortal, which you are not. At worst, I risk some time in Stormhaven. But we will see when we are contacted, for I am certain there will be an ultimatum."

* * *

22 Morning Star, 5E 3

Three days later, a courier ran up as soon as Yssha opened Lakeview's door. "A letter for you, Dragonborn." He frowned. "It's from 'an enemy', though."

Yssha sighed. "I will take it, and thank you."

She opened the letter, and read it.

"By the time you receive this, you will be aware of the death of Master Borri. If you wish to save the lives of the other Greybeards, and of your mentor Paarthurnax, you will meet us, unarmed and unarmored, not to mention alone, aboard the _Pride of Alinor_ at the Windhelm docks. You will do as we say until we arrive at our destination. As long as you cooperate and there is no attempt to follow us or rescue you, our agents will spare the Greybeards and dragon.

"Do we expect you to believe that last? No, we do not. However, we care nothing about our hostages except for their value in securing you, so your belief or lack thereof is inconsequential. Please note that we have means of insuring all of the above conditions."

It was signed "Justiciary".

Yssha shuddered, then went back inside. When the others came up to her, she handed Marcurio the letter. "I must go, you know."

After reading it, he sighed. "Yeah, I guess you have to, just to be able to live with yourself. But great Divines, love ... handing yourself over to the damned Thalmor? That's the tempering we've been dreading?"

"Yssha sighed. "So it would seem, though I am sure it will be more complicated than simply allowing myself to be held prisoner. I am certain it will be unpleasant at best, but ... comfort yourselves that it cannot, any longer, be permanently fatal. So I will leave in the morning. And I want everyone to follow these instructions absolutely, as I said earlier, until I return, call a dragon, or you receive some other unmistakable sign that it is safe to interfere."

* * *

23 Morning Star, 5E 3

Yssha flew to Windhelm with Odahviing. Obeying orders reluctantly, he let her off at the docks, then returned to Lakeview Manor. She found the _Pride of Alinor_ with no problem, and went aboard, where she was met by an Altmer sailor. He led her silently below deck, to face two Justiciars in full uniform. "Strip," the female ordered her.

Knowing the penalty, she obeyed, until she was standing in the icy cabin in nothing but her fur, shivering.

"Good," the male said. "Eliante said no real fun until we get you home, but just to keep you quiet, so ..." He stabbed her in the heart, and she returned to Stormhaven while the Thalmor turned to his companion. "That was easier than I thought. We'll just leave the knife where it is so she can't heal. Not that she'd have time to do much healing, anyway."

Which was true; they teleported home with her while the _Pride of Alinor_ left Windhelm's harbor and sailed north, to provide a distraction in case they were followed despite the threats.

* * *

The team watched Odahviing depart with Yssha, then Marcurio spoke. "We have to obey, but ... there's nothing that says we have to wait by ourselves, or not make tentative plans. We'll decide what to do next when Odahviing gets back. In the meantime, Ahkrinbo, would you call Lokbiidaan and ask him to bring Grams?"

"As you ask, thur's-mate." Ahkrinbo Shouted, and a few moments later, Lokbiidaan arrived with Grams, in regular clothes. Marcurio handed her the letter, then said, "This is it. She left a few minutes ago. We're waiting for Odahviing."

"Titus needs to be informed," Grams said. "Andreius and Sorcalin are at the Palace, so we can let them know at the same time. Franken and Balgruuf will need to know, as well, but that can come later. What else?"

"I'll have to let Calcelmo and Sorine know Serana and I won't be in Blackreach for a while, but I think 'family emergency' for now," Nevan said. "They'll figure it out later, when word starts to spread - which it will."

Erandur nodded. "Kiraya and I will go tell them. This is both a family and Empire-level affair - I fear we would be more hindrance than help."

"This one agrees, to a certain degree," Kiraya said. "But once that is done, she will return to the surface - to the Helgen Inn, so she will be available to help should you wish her assistance." She paused. "This one was not dismissed, so her contract transfers to her contractor's spouse. Kiraya would very much like to help, but realizes that this is a personal affair and that the situation is a bit out of her field of expertise. Should you wish Kiraya to stand aside, she will understand."

Marcurio nodded. "I appreciate that. Just ... yes, stand by in Helgen. If there's anything you can do, we'll get in touch."

Before he could say anything else, Odahviing landed. "It is done. I know this is Bormahu's will, but ... a part of me feels I have just betrayed my thur. I wish some excuse to go after her."

"We all do," Grams agreed. "Waiting till we can act is going to be the hardest part for us. I don't even want to think about what the hardest part for _her_ will be."

Marcurio shuddered. "Me either. So how do we handle notifying His Majesty, Grams? Just you, or all of us?"

Grams thought for a moment. "The four of us. You, Nevan, Serana, and me. Get into your armor and arm up. I'll 'port to the Priory and do the same, then meet you at the Arena. I can get an audience whenever I want, and seeing us in battle gear will tell Titus it's urgent." She turned to Lokbiidaan. "Would you mind taking Erandur and Kiraya to - " She turned to Nevan. "Where's best?"

"Tower of Mzark," he replied. "It's right over Central City."

"Certainly," Lokbiidaan agreed. "I will wait for them there, and take them to Helgen afterward, then return to the Priory." As soon as the two were mounted, he took off, Grams 'ported to the Priory, and Yssha's team went inside to get ready.

As planned, Grams met them when they landed in the Arena. She was in her Divine Crusader armor, Marcurio in his new Daedric, Nevan and Serana in their dragonscale - a pretty impressive group, she thought as they made their way to the Palace. Passers-by apparently agreed, and were giving them plenty of room, which she found mildly amusing despite the circumstances.

The Penitus Oculatus guards at the main door recognized them as among the few non-military permitted to be armed in the Palace, and admitted them with no questions. It was during morning audience hours, so Grams led the way straight to the Throne Room.

The Chamberlain paled when he saw the group, but otherwise managed to maintain his professional composure. "Divine Crusader, and Stormcrown's personal team - you need an immediate audience, I gather."

"Yes, a private one. Tell His Majesty we'll be in his office, if you would. And if you can have them found, Prince Gaius, General Hargan, and Master Mage Sorcalin, as well."

"May I tell them what it's about?"

"Just tell them it's the tempering. They'll know," Grams said grimly, as she led the team to their new destination.

The gathering ended up taking place in the heavily-warded conference room they'd used for the same subject earlier.

The Emperor didn't waste any time once everyone was settled. "Tell us about it."

Marcurio obliged, reading the letter aloud first. "She left this morning. None of us liked it, but ... well, you know we were all told not to interfere."

That got nods. "But we can start making contingency plans," the Emperor said. "Do any of you have any idea where they might have taken her?"

Sorcalin nodded. "There's a dungeon under the palace in Alinor City that everyone knows is for high-value prisoners, or ones the Thalmor want to give 'special attention' to, and she'd be both."

The Emperor cursed. "I was afraid of something like that."

Marcurio nodded, adding, "I'd like to point out that as soon as she's able to call a dragon, letting them get a location, they'll be going in for revenge, and I don't think dragons know what moderation is. So we'll have to get her out of there before they destroy the place."

"Actually, we should get her out of there, as fast as we can, for another reason," Andreius said. "She's immortal, so she'll eventually regenerate from even the worst physical injuries, but not all injuries are physical. I'm more worried about them driving her insane with pain and degradation. I've seen that more times than I care to think of. And they're hardly going to take it easy on someone they have a particular hatred for."

"We can't go in before we get some sort of sign, you know that," the Emperor said firmly. "And if this is by Akatosh's will, I'm sure he'll provide her some sort of protection against mental damage. About all we can do without interfering is some pre-positioning of forces based on what sounds like a very likely location."

"I'll take care of that, Father," Gaius said. "And some amphibious exercises on the way down the coast. Thank the Divines for Skyguard communications, so we can keep in touch easily."

"Keep practicing with your bodyguard, too," Andreius said. "It looks like you may get to lead that invasion after all." He turned to the Emperor. "I think Sor and I'll head back to Lakeview with the team and start thinking about an extraction plan, since he's critical to that and I may be."

"Go, with my blessings. And the Nine be with you."


	48. The Tempering Begins

.

Chapter 48 - The Tempering Begins

23 Morning Star, 5E 3, later

Back at Lakeview Manor, in Yssha's office, Marcurio turned to Sorcalin. "I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to play Justiciar, and get me in there to rescue her once we get the okay?"

Sorcalin smiled slowly. "Play Justiciar? I could do that, but not with you, and not unprepared."

"I agree," Grams put in. "Marcurio, you're one of the heroes of the Battle of Sovngarde, as well known as Yssha. The rest of the team's too well-known as well, and so am I. None of us would get within a mile of the place."

"The basic plan's a good one, though," Andreius said thoughtfully. "What about the two of us, Sorcalin? No one knows what the Nerevarine looks like, any more, except for a very few inside the Empire."

The Altmer nodded. "Me as a Justiciar, you as my prisoner. That could work as the basis for a real plan. But we'll need preparation, or we won't have a chance. That's the palace, remember? It'll be heavily guarded, so we'll need every advantage we can get." He turned to Grams. "First, I think I'll need to get you to teach me that teleport spell after all. Getting in will be the easy part - getting out with a torture victim will be the difficult part, assuming I survive."

"I offered years ago, and the offer's still open," Grams said. "It's not a difficult spell, but you'll need quite a bit of practice, especially for long distances. What else?"

Sorcalin grimaced. "A Justiciar robe and boots. Armor to fit a werewolf. I can take on multiple Daedra and win, but a mass attack, even by humans, could take me out, and I'm not suicidal enough to go in with no more than a mage robe."

"We've got Justiciar uniforms - I think we kept three or four," Marcurio said. "I'll talk to Adrianne about the armor. I'll probably have to bring her here - no, Yssha had her crafting things moved - to Windstad Manor, where she can take some measurements."

"And I'll have to get to my place," Andreius added. "I've got most of what I really need, but there are a few other items that might help. If you're going to learn Teleport, Sor, we can leave the gear outside, get me into a cell, and arm up just before we go after her."

"Sounds like a good start," Grams agreed.

* * *

This time it was the fiery dragon who appeared to Yssha when she entered Stormhaven. "I must ask your pardon for using you so harshly, moni," he said. "I assure you it is necessary, however unpleasant, and Thalmor and any who would follow their example must learn the full power of your vahriinne's anger. Unfortunately for you, that means angering them first."

Yssha was terrified, given what she'd heard and seen of Thalmor practices, but she bowed. "I serve your will, Bormah."

"Then in your times here, study the Way of the Voice with Master Borri, who chose this over Sovngarde. You will not live that Way in full, but it does hold much of value to you. When you return to your body, your final tempering begins. There is much you must learn of dragonkind, and of yourself, without the distractions of everyday life."

* * *

The Justiciars and their prisoner appeared just outside First Spymaster Eliante's office. Ungarion called two soldiers over, handing them the body and ordering them to carry her to the dungeon two levels below. He and Nerissa went into the office to report to their superior.

Eliante rose to greet them, smiling. "Since you're back, I gather you were successful."

Ungarion nodded. "She's dead, for the moment, and a couple of soldiers are taking her down to Special Interrogation."

"That's wonderful, my dears," she congratulated them. "Once you get her, er, settled in, would you care for a private little celebration in my quarters?"

"We have some precautions to take," Nerissa said, then she smiled. "Once that's done, though, the celebration sounds wonderful. Ah, may we use one of the fully equipped interrogation suites instead of just a cell?"

"Certainly, dears. I thought you'd like that, so I had some of the students refurbish Suite One for you. Everything is in perfect working order, and everything that's supposed to be sharp is. The only thing you'll need to do is light the brazier if you plan on using heat."

"Thank you," Ungarion said with a sweeping bow. He started to leave, then paused. "I don't know if we have much in the way of resources still in place in the Empire, but remember those special plans you mentioned before we left, the storms and such?"

"Yes," Eliante said, frowning. "They ... don't seem to have had as much effect as we'd hoped. Do you have any idea why?"

Ungarion grimaced. "It's the damned Dragonborn again. She found a prophecy about that sort of magic being used against them - it even mentioned Abomination - and they took precautions. Storm shelters, a way to grow plants indoors, everyone having some sort of disease resistance or immunity charm, targeting any Thalmor from a distance beyond Abomination's area of effect ... anything you did of that sort was a simple waste of magica."

Eliante matched his expression. "I'm sure you have plans for her that'll make her regret interfering in Dominion affairs."

"We do indeed," Nerissa said with a smile. "We need to set some special wards on the suite first, and take a couple of other precautions, unless you have something else for us."

"Not at the moment," Eliante replied. "Go take your precautions, then we'll celebrate."

"We'll see you in about half an hour, then."

The two Justiciars went on downstairs, to the sub-basement where the soldiers were waiting for instructions on where to put their burden. Ungarion opened the door to Interrogation Suite One. "Just dump her by the shackles," he said. "We'll take it from there."

They did as they were told and left. The two Justiciars had spent part of their time in Skyrim planning for security, knowing that eventually, probably sooner rather than later, her people would decide on a rescue attempt despite their threats. Ungarion propped their prisoner up on her knees, shackling her to the wall so her arms were half-spread and she was slumped forward. While he did that, Nerissa cast the special ward spell the two had designed, not only protecting the interior of the chamber from outside magic, but also insuring that only Thalmor could use magic inside.

When she was done, she turned to her partner. "That takes care of most of it. Too bad we can't be sure how long it'll take her to come back; the tongue removal should be done before she wakes up, but if we do it too soon, it might grow back as she regenerates." She paused. "I think I've changed my mind. Set the sentry you were talking about on her, and get him to check the tongue every couple of hours. They may not be qualified as interrogators, but even a recruit ought to be capable of keeping a tongue-stub trimmed down."

Ungarion chuckled, removing the knife from the prisoner's chest. "I thought you'd come around. I'll give the orders, then we can go enjoy Eliante and her party."

* * *

24 Morning Star, 5E 3

When Yssha woke, she was chained to the wall of a cold room full of glittering torture implements, with the two Justiciars she'd surrendered to standing in front of her, and perhaps a dozen soldiers nearby. "Welcome back," the man said, clearly gloating. "This room is warded against any magic but ours, and we've taken the precaution of removing your tongue to prevent you from Shouting."

He paused, grinning in a way that made Yssha shudder. "Normally I wouldn't befoul myself with a beast, but in your case, I'm going to make an exception." He turned to two of the soldiers. "You know what to do. When I'm done with her, you can have your turns. All of you may have her, and try to make it last. If you kill this one, there'll be no reprimands."

Lokmoroyol stirred. _I think it is time for some of those shared memories, thuri. I saw this done often when we ruled under Alduin's corruption, and I see no need for you to endure it in more than body._

 _Take over, then,_ Yssha agreed.

Lokmoroyol melded with her, and Yssha was no longer more than vaguely aware of what was happening with her body. She knew in an almost dreamlike way what Ungarion and the soldiers were doing to her, that she was screaming herself hoarse, then moaning and whimpering when she could no longer scream. What she was fully aware of was perching atop the highest mountain of Akavir shortly after her creation, her wings spread as she contemplated her kin, a dozen males created earlier, including the First-Born. They were hers to sky-dance with, and perhaps if Bormah permitted, give her offspring. While her Khajiit body was being violated, Yssha-as-Lokmoroyol took flight, climbing, soaring, diving, in a glorious sky-dance of challenge and mating.

* * *

The Justiciars watched approvingly as their soldiers followed orders. When Yssha passed out, Nerissa ordered them to strap her to the rack. "My turn, when she wakes up," she said, turning to her partner. "Unless, of course, you enjoyed that enough to want a repeat."

"Not really," Ungarion said, grimacing. "With a human, it's not much more than an unpleasant chore, but she's a beast, and you know how I feel about those." He paused, thinking. "On the other hand, it's in the protocols for a high-ranking female ... and she seemed repelled enough by me that perhaps we ought to start every session that way. Oh, and send her people notes of appreciation every so often. I think I'll go write the first one now. Call me when you're ready to get started."

"I'm not sure that part's a good idea," Nerissa said dubiously. "Those Nords are unpredictable at best, and we have no idea how the dragons might react. It might be more than we can handle."

Ungarion laughed. "More than _Thalmor_ can handle? Those barbarians? You worry too much, lover. As I said, call me when you're ready to get started. Her reactions to your methods ought to be amusing."

* * *

25 Morning Star, 5E 3

Yssha screamed as Nerissa ordered the rack tightened again and began cutting, but almost immediately, she was deep in Mirmulnir's memories, experiencing his viewpoint, at a time the vodovah now called the Merethic Era. It was a pleasant time, he thought. He and the rest of the dov had accepted First-Born Alduin as thur, and the ones they'd called joor back then had appreciated dov aid and protection, respecting dovah power, as was only proper. Some were starting to go beyond that, beginning to honor them as near-gods, which he found pleasant. He'd recently been offered a bull-calf by a farmer he'd saved from a bear, and being addressed as Lord Mirmulnir had given him a power-thrill he wouldn't mind repeating. An offering, and near-worship? Yes, he could get used to that, easily. Perhaps thur Alduin would encourage such.

* * *

Nerissa, not knowing the only one in the body she was tormenting who was paying any attention to her was a dragon-soul named Sahrotaar, taunted her victim. "I've always fancied a Khajiit-fur rug, kitty-cat, and your color is particularly attractive. Plus it'll grow back, so I can collect another one later, for Ungarion. And perhaps a third, for Eliante. After that, perhaps some to sell."

Then she turned to the soldiers. "To insure that, make sure she's fed properly. Pelts from starved animals are unattractive, not to mention worthless. Oh, and do nothing that'll damage her fur."

Ungarion laughed. "I gather that goes for me, as well. All right, no burns or flogging, or compound fractures. That still leaves plenty of possibilities."

Yssha passed out about halfway through the flaying, but Nerissa didn't stop until she had the cat completely skinned, and her soldiers were putting it on a tanning frame. She grinned at Ungarion. "That was most satisfactory. Where would you like her for the start of tomorrow's session?"

"Oh, just leave her there. She's accessible enough, and I don't care to haul her back to the shackles just for that." He turned to one of the guards. "Call us when she grows some skin and wakes up. Not the pelt, necessarily, just enough I won't muss my robes when I take her. And keep her tongue trimmed."

"Of course, Lord Justiciar."


	49. Initial Preparations

Chapter 49 - Initial Preparations

26 Morning Star, 5E 3

Alinor

The next time Ungarion came for her, Yssha was already engrossed in another of Lokmoroyol's memories, perched atop a Word Wall, enjoying the first stirrings of season and watching a fiercely-contested competition for her attentions. She liked all three - Sahloknir, Dovgrahaak, and Odahviing - had happily mated all three before, and was sure she would do so again. All three were high-status, and powerful, well worth fathering anyone's clutch.

When the competition was over she took wing toward Odahviing, the victor and the one she liked best of the three. It was a wonderful mating flight, and she roared with satisfaction when she felt herself taking in her lover, and then his seed, far above Akavir. She would have a wonderful clutch, she was certain, and she roared again, sending joyous fire into the sky.

* * *

As Ungarion studied the various torture instruments, finally approaching her with joint-crushers, Sahloknir came to the fore. Mirmulnir had shown her the earliest stages of humans beginning to worship dragons; by the time Sahrotaar showed her, it had developed to the point of having a priesthood, though they weren't masked, and mostly petitioned their "gods" for protection from the vampire-snake Tsaesci, which was granted, but less than completely effective. The snake-folk could sneak past dragon patrols, and were a constant problem.

In Sahloknir's memory, Yssha attended the conference where Alduin decided to begin moving his human subjects west, to Tamriel, which at the time had few men except on the far northwest section.

Alduin's subjects began settling in the northeast. Yssha, flying over the area as Sahloknir, thought it was beautiful, bounded by mountains east, west, and south, cold and snowy to the north, milder in the south. Plenty of nice places to lair, hot springs the females could use to brood their eggs if Alduin hadn't forbidden them to reproduce outside Akavir. It didn't always match what she'd flown over on Odahviing, though.

Red Mountain was taller than Monahven, the Throat of the World, for instance. And the northwest coastline was different, Solstheim still part of the mainland and Skyrim, stretching further into the Sea of Ghosts where Winterhold would some day stand.

* * *

Lakeview Manor

Since no one had any idea how long it would be before they would be freed to go after Yssha, they began making preparations immediately. They decided that Grams and Andreius would go to his hideaway to see what else from he wanted to use. Marcurio and Sorcalin would go to Windstad Manor, send Valdimar to Solitude for a day or two, then Marcurio would go to Whiterun to pick up Adrianne.

Once Marcurio and Sorcalin had left on the first part of their errand, Grams and Andreius joined Lokbiidaan. "You'll have to tell him where we're going," Grams said. "I've never been to your vault, you know."

Andreius chuckled. "You never even hinted at wanting to know," he said, then turned to the dragon. "Are you familiar with the shrine to Azura in the Cheydinhal sector of Cyrodiil?"

"Of course. Your vault would be the small, well-concealed and warded building nearby?"

"What the - you know about it?" That was startling, and a bit disturbing.

"Of course." Lokbiidaan gape-grinned. "I am dov - I have dov senses, and since we are magical by nature, that includes the ability to sense wards."

"Magical by nature?" Andreius repeated, before nodding. "I suppose you'd have to be, at that, to talk and fly."

"And Shout," Lokbiidan agreed. "Goz, ahrk mu bo. Mount, and we go."

It was a longer than usual flight, going from southeast Skyrim to northeast Cyrodiil, and Grams chuckled when they dismounted near the vault. "Divines, I haven't been to this part of Cyrodiil in a couple of centuries! That was on a Fighter's Guild mission to rescue Lord Rugdumph's daughter. Got a very nice enchanted sword out of that one." She looked around. "It doesn't seem to've changed much."

"No, it hasn't. Well, come on in, and we'll see what looks useful."

It was what he'd called it, a vault - although maybe armory would have been a better name, since it was mostly armor stands and weapon racks, with a few display cases here and there. Most of the stands and racks were full, though there were empty spots here and there. Grams didn't recognize much, but they were probably mostly Morrowind items, and Andreius wouldn't have recognized many of hers, if she hadn't identified them for him during his too-rare visits.

Andreius prowled the room, stopping to consider something every now and then, but usually shaking his head and moving on. Then he stopped at a display case, and grinned. "Might be the right time to give these a field test."

Grams moved to stand beside him. The case held half a dozen ... crystals? They were a bit smaller than palm-size, transparent, shaped like a heraldic diamond with a band around the middle. They weren't empty, though. Two held tiny flames, two held ice-blue balls of mist, the other two lightning. "What in Oblivion are those?"

"An invention of Sorcalin's. He calls them element-bombs. You need to be pretty strong to use them, or use a telekinesis spell, because you throw them at the enemy and they explode on contact, so you'd better be out of range. They worked fine in preliminary testing, or I wouldn't consider taking them now."

"I'd like to see them in action first, but I trust you and Sor - bring 'em along."

* * *

Before they left, Marcurio took a few minutes to study Sorcalin. Then he asked, "Just what kind of armor do you want? Light or heavy?"

"Light, definitely - you've seen the way I fight in my other form. Back, chest, and arms only, though - I don't need my movements hampered the way leg armor would. And definitely no helmet or gauntlets."

Marcurio nodded. "You'll need something to hold the arm pieces up, so I'd recommend pauldrons - dragonscale ones won't hamper you at all, according to Yssha, Nevan, and Serana."

"Dragonscale?" Sorcalin asked, puzzled. "Isn't that a bit excessive? I was thinking more Elven or glass."

"You want mobility, right? Dragonscale is those on a leather base, so a lot more flexible, not to mention much better protection."

Sorcalin nodded. "All right, I see your point. Elven and glass are pretty stiff."

"Then let's get going." The two mounted Odahviing and left for Windstad Manor.

Valdimar had no objections to spending a couple of days in Solitude, which was helpful, so Odahviing took Marcurio to Whiterun while Sorcalin stayed at the Manor.

When Odahviing landed in the Whiterun fore-yard between drawbridge and city gates, he was greeted happily by those emerging from the gates, especially the children. Marcurio grinned at that, heading inside to Warmaiden's. To his surprise, Adrianne wasn't outside at the forge, as she usually was on such a nice day, so he went inside, to find her sharing a meal with Ulfberth.

He apologized for intruding and started to leave, but Uflberth called him back. "At least have a mug of ale, Marcurio. Is it true, the Thalmor have Ysmir?"

"It's already out?" Marcurio was a bit surprised, but between the importance of the news, and dov tendency to gossip, probably it shouldn't be that surprising. "Yes, I'm afraid so. We're making preparations to get her back, once Akatosh permits it, and I need Adrianne's help for that."

"Of course!" she exclaimed. "What is it, and do I need any special equipment? At least I'm assuming it's my smithing skills you want."

"It is, and no - you'll have full access to Yssha's equipment and supplies at Windstad Manor, the place she's set up as her workshop. What it is ... " Marcurio hesitated. "You know she's not exactly conventional in her friendships."

Adrianne snorted. "Yes. Now just what are you trying to break to me gently? I'm to make armor for an Orc? Their own smiths are better for that."

"An Orc? No, that wouldn't take a specialist. We need you to make upper-body dragonscale for ... " Marcurio took a deep breath. "For a friend of ours who happens to be a werewolf."

"WEREWOLF!" Adrianne and Ulfberth yelled in concert, and seconds later there was a pounding on the door, three Whiterun Guards bursting in.

"Werewolf? Where?" the leader demanded.

Marcurio stood. "False alarm, I'm afraid," he said. "My fault, I said something that disturbed them."

The Guard leader grumbled, but sheathed his weapons. "Very well, Thane. But please try not to do it again - my men are senstitive about werewolf or vampire alerts."

"Of course, sergeant - my apologies again."

When the guards left, he turned back to Adrianne. "Truly, he's a friend of ours. Killed a party of vampires who'd targeted us in Winterhold, by himself, then apologized for making a mess."

"I don't like it," Ulfberth grumbled. "Can't you get someone besides Adrianne?"

Marcurio shook his head. "She and Yssha are the only ones who can smith dragon armor, and we've been reliably informed that our friend's going to be crucial to rescuing Yssha, so we want him having the best protection available."

"In that case, I suppose I can't object," Ulfberth said reluctantly. "Can I go along?"

"I'm afraid not," Marcurio replied. "He doesn't know you, and that could make him uncomfortable."

"He doesn't know Adrianne either. What about her?"

Marcurio chuckled. "I'm not going to insult a blacksmith's strength, but face it, she's a lot less intimidating than you are."

"I'll be fine," Adrianne assured her husband, standing. "Let's go get your friend armored up."

Odahviing gape-grinned when he saw Adrianne accompanying Marcurio. "It is good to see you again, lady smith. I must extend my fellows' congratulations on your work on the Mirmulnir Throne. She used it for the acknowledgement ceremony, and we agree you did very well by our thur."

Adrianne smiled. "I'm glad you all like it. I think it's my best work so far, maybe ever. Such challenges are enjoyable."

"Is that how you regard this task?"

"Well ... yes, actually. I'm a little nervous, considering my client, but ... it's something no other smith has ever done, even if I can't talk about it. Maybe I'll be able to, later."

"I'm pretty sure you will," Marcurio said. "But let's get it done, first."

* * *

Odahviing Called shortly before they landed. He'd made sure Sorcalin knew the Dovahzul for "we come," so the Altmer would know to get down to the forge and shift before they landed. "Mu Meyz!"

Adrianne admired the view as they circled to land, Solitude and the Blue Palace visible in the distance. When they dismounted and she and Marcurio approached the manor, she said, "It's beautiful here, and the view is spectacular, but I'm surprised Yssha would want a place this far north."

"Oh, we still live at Lakeview; she just wanted her crafting out of our residence, and this is close to some of her favorite merchants." Not to mention her favorite fence, and he didn't. "S - er, our friend will be waiting in the forge. He's pretty big, even for a werewolf. He wants the armor easy to move in, so not too snug, all right?"

Adrianne nodded. "I've unfortunately seen a couple of werewolves in action, so I know how they fight. If you can call it that. Where's the forge?"

"In the cellar - see than angled door to the left of the steps?"

Marcurio led the way over and opened the door, calling down, "It's Marcurio and Adrianne - everything's all right."

Adrianne descended the stairs, catching the doggy scent before she saw the hulking form of a bigger werewolf than she'd have believed possible. She approached cautiously, but oddly enough, felt no real fear. She'd been assured he was a friend of Yssha's, and that was enough. Yssha had dangerous friends, granted - she'd just ridden one of them - but she had confidence that no friend of Yssha's would be actively hostile to anyone who didn't provoke it.

She introduced herself first. "I'm Adrianne Avenicci, the smith who's going to make your armor. I'll have to take measurements, then we'll have to do a couple of fittings to make sure it's comfortable and you can move well in it, maybe make some adjustments." She turned to Marcurio. "Where does Yssha keep her supplies and equipment?"

"Equipment's in the chest by the grindstone, supplies are in the chest and barrel by the worktable."

"Thanks." Adrienne went to the first chest, finding pre-marked measuring tapes, notepads, some odd things that seemed to serve as charcoal sticks, and the usual tools.

The werewolf cooperated with her measurement-taking, though it was pretty clear he didn't like being touched. She made it as quick as she could without sacrificing accuracy, then nodded to him. "That's it for a few hours. If you and Marcurio want to leave, I'll call you when I'm ready for the fitting."

"We'll be upstairs, then," Marcurio said. "When you're ready for us, knock on the trapdoor to the main hall."

* * *

Sorcalin's wolf moved around in the new armor. It felt peculiar, but his other-self approved, and he could move almost as freely as without it, so it would be tolerable. Acceptable, he supposed, and the little human female was radiating a desire for approval-if-deserved, like an anxious cub trying to show off to her sire. That amused him, so he touched noses, as he would've done with a true cub, then turned to Marcurio and nodded.

"I'll take him home and be back for you," Marcurio told Adrianne. Stay down here until I knock, okay?"

"Okay," Adrianne agreed. "I need to clean up anyway, and that'll take an hour or so."

* * *

With Adrianne returned to Whiterun, Marcurio rejoined Sorcalin and the rest at Lakeview Manor. Sorcalin had shifted back to his Altmer form, of course, and was in the main hall sipping wine, his new armor nowhere in sight. Marcurio wondered at that, but Rayya and certainly Freyr weren't cleared to know that Sorcalin was a werewolf. So it was something of a relief when Grams led the teams outside, got Ahkrinbo to call Odahviing, and took the whole group down to the lake, well out of earshot. That gave Marcurio a chance to ask Sorcalin where his new armor was.

"Where my clothes are when I'm shifted," Sorcalin replied. "I enchanted it so that when I shift, I'll automatically have it on, the way my clothes are on when I resume this form."

"And that's part of what we need to talk about," Grams said. "Sor, if you're going to be in on the rescue and then the assault on the Alinor Palace, the odds are pretty high that you're going to want or maybe even need to go were. You know that, or you wouldn't have asked for armor to fit that form. So have you given any thought about how to keep the Imperials from attacking you, as a worse danger than the Thalmor?"

Sorcalin nodded. "I need to establish that the oversized werewolf in armor is no threat to the Legion or Skyguard. That part's pretty obvious. What I'm working on now is how to keep anyone from figuring out that werewolf's other identity is Master Mage Sorcalin."

"That may not be possible long-term," Nevan said. "Sure, keep it secret as long as you can, but sooner or later, someone's going to figure it out. So I'd strongly recommend you get working on the Armored Werewolf's reputation as soon and as much as you can."

Odahviing nodded. "Tol onik - that is wise," he agreed. "Most opportunities will arise on the border, as that is where the fighting is now, so you will need dedicated dragon transport. I think I know the perfect one, too. He is the most accustomed of us all to odd happenings. Shall I call him?"

"Durnehviir, I bet," Serana murmured to Nevan.

Odahviing heard, and gape-grinned at her. "You would win," he said, then Called the dovah who'd spent so much time undead in the Soul Cairn before being restored by Akatosh.

"Geh, thur's-second?" Durnehviir asked when he landed.

"I introduce General Andreius Hargan, the Nerevarine, and his companion, Master Mage Sorcalin. They require a discreet dovah who is willing to carry them into the war zone."

Durnehviir cocked his head. "I would be honored to carry the Nerevarine and his companion, but why is discretion required?"

"Because I'm a werewolf," Sorcalin admitted. "I need to earn my wolf a reputation of helping the Legion and Skyguard, but without revealing that he and I are connected for as long as that's possible."

"I will not reveal it," Durnehviir said. "May I see your other form?"

Sorcalin answered by shifting, and Durnehviir was clearly surprised. "Armor, on a mungrohiik? And a very large one, at that."

Sorcalin shifted back. "Yes."

"I will carry both of you, gladly. You may change while I do so, if you wish; it may help maintain your anonymity, for a while."

"Thank you." Sorcalin smiled.

Grams was satisfied. "I think that settles things for now. If you two will let the rest of the dovah know we need to know times where some special intervention will help, we'd appreciate it. And keep Sorcalin's secret as long as possible."

The two dovah agreed, and the meeting broke up.


	50. Faal Mungrohiik

.

Chapter 50 - Faal Mungrohiik

02 Sun's Dawn, 5E 3

Alinor

For Nerissa and Ungarion, the Dragonborn's captivity had settled into a routine within the first week. The day began with the rapes, of course. Ungarion was no happier than ever with personally carrying out this particular protocol on a beast-woman, but having the Thalmor's greatest enemy in his power and making her scream was an undeniable pleasure. The troops on duty didn't seem to care one way or the other about her being a cat; they simply enjoyed themselves.

Afterward, if her pelt had regrown fully enough to harvest, which took about three days, Nerissa skinned her and sent the pelt to the improvised tannery in two of the cells. That was usually it for the day, since the skinning left Yssha unconscious and too weak for further entertainment.

The days between skinnings, Ungarion usually spent a couple of hours amusing himself after his men were done. Crushing finger or toe joints was good, or pulling teeth or claws, none of which damaged the pelt. They'd decided not to be selfish, though, so the non-skinning afternoons, he turned the Dragonborn over to another Justiciar, or occasionally an instructor with a student who was having difficulty with a particular technique. One of those had accidentally killed her, damaging the regrowing fur in the process.

Nerissa had been furious, but it had been a fortuitous accident from her viewpoint, since it proved not to delay the pelt regeneration as she'd feared. That meant she could clear Ungarion and the rest for more invasive techniques, and she did.

* * *

From Yssha's perspective, it was far less routine. Any time she was alive and awake, she was caught up in her soul-guests' memories. Those were usually Lokmoroyol, Mirmulnir, or Sahrotaar, but could be any of them - and the females were rather competitive about who got to shield her from Ungarion and his soldiers, which she found amusing. After that part, it was history, from several viewpoints, and there was an increasing discrepancy between the Akaviri and Skyrim attitudes.

Akavir and its Dragon Priests didn't change that much, except for the hierarchy becoming more formalized. So that priesthood and the dragons they served remained mostly protective of the joorre under them.

As more waves of Akaviri moved to Skyrim, though, the humans became more devout - more slavish, in her opinion - and the priests and dragons more overbearing, in turn. That seemed to be something she should make note of.

It wasn't much later ... what little she was aware of time passing ... that Sahrotaar, soaring over Taazokaan, asked, _Is there anything particular you would like to see, thuri? We have been showing you much, but not asking that_.

Yssha sent a shrug. _So much of these times are lost to us, I would have no idea what to ask for. So just show me what you think I would enjoy, or find helpful._

 _Very well. Hmm. Some sightseeing, then, I think - our realm at its height, about a century before the Dragon War. We were not the best of masters, even then, but this was before we got so bad the joorre felt forced to rise up against us._

The tour showed her Tamriel in its full glory, mortals and dragons living at peace, though she got the impression it was now an uneasy one. There were dragon towers reaching high in the air where mountains were lacking, not as good as mountain peaks but better than perching on flat ground. There were great temples, where dragons were worshipped and petitioned and sacrificed to. There were lush farms and fat cattle. But Sahrotaar knew, so Yssha did as well, that the priests in those temples were becoming tyrants, and not all the sacrifices were voluntary. Cracks in the peaceful facade were beginning to appear, and it wouldn't be long ... at least in dovah terms ... before something exploded.

 _Bromjunaar?_ she sent, and he changed course, bringing them to the beautiful dragon towers and human buildings - and combinations of the two - that formed the most magnificent city Tamriel had ever seen.

* * *

Lakeview Manor

Grams sighed. Sorcalin had finally worked out the details he personally needed as teleport references - those were different for each individual - and his range was excellent; she'd taken him as far as the western border of Cyrodiil and he'd easily made it back to Lakeview Manor, but for some reason neither of them had yet worked out, none of his attempts at a target on the Summerset Isles had been successful, no matter how well he remembered them.

Then she frowned as something occurred to her. "Sorcalin, when were you in the Isles last?"

'Hmm? Let me think." After a few seconds, he continued. "I can't remember exactly. Some time before the Oblivion Crisis."

"Huh - no wonder you can't 'port there, then. That's over two hundred years, so things've changed too much. What you're visualizing doesn't match what's there now. You and Andreius will have to find another way in. By dragon, probably, but that can wait till we get the go-ahead."

* * *

Durnehviir landed about an hour before sunset, and rumbled Sorcalin's and Andreius' names. When they emerged from Lakeview Manor, he gape-grinned. "We have an ... incident that may help your intentions. A rather large group of Legionnaires, including a Legate Torold, were taken prisoner by an invading group of Thalmor, and dragged into Valenwood. Shall I take you to the area?"

"Yes," Sorcalin replied, mounting Durnehviir's neck, Andreius behind him. Durnehviir wasted no time taking off, heading south-south-west. When he landed, it was near the edge of the Valenwood forests, just on the Empire side of the Strid River. Sorcalin dismounted. "You two might as well go do something else - for what we're trying to establish, it's best if you're not associated with me."

"If you encounter difficulties, call my name," Durnehviir said. "Dov hearing is excellent, and we are particularly sensitive to our will remain close enough to hear if you call."

"I will," Sorcalin promised, "but I hope I won't have to, since that would reveal my identity immediately."

He thought for a moment. "How close are we to where they were taken?"

"We are about a hundred yards upstream - you can still see where vegetation was disturbed."

"I'm on my way, then." Sorcalin shifted and began loping downstream. He heard Durnehviir taking off, but paid it no attention, more interested in the scents he was detecting as he neared the crossing area. Yes, mixed Nord and Altmer scents ... not difficult for a werewolf's sensitive nose to distinguish, given the different diets, types of armor, lubricants, and the like.

He couldn't tell numbers, just from that, but it was a large group, with two or three times as many Altmer as humans, and wounded of both races. More wounded humans, it smelled like, but the Thalmor would have healed their own, so that wasn't definitive.

He crossed the river, following the scents until they began to be joined by woodsmoke. He continued forward until he could see the specks of campfires through the trees, hear the talking, and smell food cooking for supper, then he settled in to wait.

The time he'd spent tracking had gotten him used to the armor; it was no longer at all objectionable. Once the majority of the Thalmor fell asleep, he'd test it in action, and he was looking forward to that. The Thalmor had hunted him, now he had another chance to hunt and kill them, and he was almost salivating at the prospect.

As things settled down, he began prowling, trying to identify what was where. All right, this part was mostly Thalmor, the more southerly area smelled more of Nords, so the prison area, with only a few Thalmor smells.

And it was a camp, with tents, not an outpost with wooden buildings, or a fort, with stone. This wouldn't be particularly difficult, then. Unfortunately, Thalmor had less of a tendency to get drunk on duty than Nords did, but he could cope with that.

His first targets, he decided, should be the Thalmor soldiers guarding the prisoners. After he found out where their arms and armor were, that was. When he was younger, with less self-control and experience, he'd probably have just charged in and run rampant among the Thalmor, but over the years, he'd gained plenty of both; he knew now that doing so would just get him killed. Probably by the Thalmor mages he had no defenses against in this form.

So free the prisoners first, and get at least a few of them armed and armored, to protect the rest while they did the same and he started to indulge his hobby of killing Thalmor.

It was close to midnight when he decided the camp was probably as quiet as it was going to get. Masser was dark, but Secunda was half-lit, which was plenty of light for him. He silently made his way to the far side of the prisoner compound from the main Thalmor camp. A few of the prisoners were outside the tents, making use of privies or simply unable to sleep. That was fine, since the idea was for them to see him. Hopefully only one at first, though, and one who'd remain silent rather than alerting the Thalmor.

Yes, that one there, the older man near the fence. Sorcalin waited until one of the sentries was at that point in his rounds and sprang, clawing the mer's throat out so he couldn't scream, then grabbing his sword and approaching the fence, making gestures for silence. It was a relief when the man nodded, his eyes wide and his expression a mix of fear and hope. Sorcalin took the sword by the blade - awkwardly; his hands weren't exactly built to handle human-sized tools or weapons - and shoved the hilt through the fence. The man took it, shaking his head in apparent disbelief.

Legate Torold was stunned at what he'd just witnessed, to the point he was barely able to get out a low-voiced, "You ... _helping_ us?"

Sorcalin nodded. This would be easier if he could communicate in other than the simplest of gestures, but Hircine willing, that would be enough. He pointed to the dead sentry, mimed killing more, then gestured as if tearing a hole in the fence.

Torold nodded. That seemed clear enough. "You'll kill the rest of the sentries, then free us?"

Sorcalin nodded again. Then he pointed to Torold, indicated his armor and the sword, and pointed to a tent about a hundred feet away.

"All right, I'll brief the men," Torold said, still quietly. "Nine be with you."

Sorcalin didn't even try to smile, positive it would be misunderstood. He simply nodded, then repeated the gesture for silence and went to do some more sentry-hunting.

Torold, barely believing it himself, gathered his surviving officers cautiously in the mess tent. "We've got help," he told them. "Unbelievable help, but help nonetheless." He showed them the glass sword Sorcalin had taken from the Thalmor soldier. "Don't yell, and if you talk at all, keep it down. This was given to me by our rescuer after I saw him kill one of the sentries."

"And just who is this mysterious rescuer?" Praefect Decius asked.

"The biggest damn werewolf I've ever seen," Torold replied. "Wearing dragonscale armor."

That got murmurs of disbelief, but fortunately, everyone was able to keep it down. Then he continued. "He's going to take out more sentries, then make a hole in the fence, and he's found our arms and armor in a tent about a hundred feet from the fence. Get a squad of your best fighters together. I'll want them to armor and arm themselves to protect the rest of us while we do the same. And by the Nine, make sure everyone knows to not attack the werewolf! Have your troops report to me here."

His officers agreed, then departed to carry out their orders, and Torold sighed. A _werewolf_? The Divines had a warped sense of humor, sure enough. A Khajiit Dragonborn - though he had to admit she'd done surprisingly well - and now an armored werewolf rescuing him and his men?

* * *

As soon as he was satisfied the Legionnaires could be counted on to be as quiet as possible while they armed up, Sorcalin returned to the mostly-Thalmor part of the camp. Sentries first again ... and once he couldn't find any more of those, he began entering the smaller two-man tents. The first one was uneventful, but seconds after he entered the second, he heard sounds of battle - and unfortunately, so did his prospective victims. In his favor, they were in sleeping bags, so he was able to kill them before they managed to emerge, though he did forego grabbing a snack from either one before emerging from the tent. As he did, he decided to add a little extra fun to the Thalmor demoralization, lifting his muzzle to the sky and letting out a bloodcurdling howl that echoed as Hircine sent him two of his spectral brethren.

Killing Thalmor with Legion assistance, he discovered when he joined them in the battle, was even more enjoyable than doing it alone - it was almost like leading his own pack, and the first time he'd had that sensation. He liked it, a lot, and found himself hoping that at some point, he would hunt again with others like these.

When the battle was over and he couldn't smell any more live Thalmor, he went looking for the Legate. To his surprise, the Legionnaires didn't recoil from him, as humans usually did. Instead, they regarded him with respect, not too unlike what he got as a Master Mage, and it felt good. A couple of the bolder ones even tried to touch him, but a stare and brief growl discouraged them.

When he finally found Torold, the man was limping and blood smeared his armor, but he was grinning fiercely. "Hail, friend!" he called. "It was a good battle, and we owe it and our freedom to you. You'll be remembered in glorious song and story - or would, if we had a name for you."

Sorcalin shrugged, giving the best version he could of a chuckle - which sounded rather like a puppy growling - and waved his hand at the surrounding Nords.

Torold nodded. "You can't talk, so we have to pick it, right?"

Sorcalin nodded, hoping the Nord tendency to overstatement wouldn't make it too embarrassing.

After several seconds, a young voice ventured, "Faal Mungrohiik?"

Torold turned toward the voice, which came from a young Auxiliary. "What was that, soldier?"

The boy flushed. "It's Dovahzul, sir. It means 'The Werewolf'. Uh, I think it c'n be a title or a name, or both. Respectful. Jus' ... uh, seems right."

Torold turned to Sorcalin. "Is that acceptable?"

Sorcalin looked at the young Legionnaire who had proposed it, seeing ... a bit of fear, combined with pride, and nodded, touching the boy's head. The cub had courage, and had proposed a very acceptable name. He would take it. He was Faal Mungrohiik.


	51. A Mixed Bag

Author's Note: Lore is extremely vague about timelines in the Merethic Era, so I have to be, too. And there are things her soul-guests wouldn't know, so just to try keeping things straight, I'm putting those where they could have happened and make sense.

* * *

Chapter 51 - A Mixed Bag

04 Sun's Dawn - 03 First Seed

Alinor

Yssha alternated between enjoying her soul-guests' shared memories and being appalled by them in the century between Sahrotaar's tour and the beginning of the Dragon War. It was hard for her to keep track of what happened when, because the memories weren't in chronological order. She could make some guesses, but she couldn't be certain.

The Dragon War, she did discover, was only indirectly due to the dragons themselves. While they liked the worship and tribute, they hadn't the slightest interest in doing the work of ruling. That they left to the senior Dragon Priests they'd rewarded with enchanted masks for gathering the most tribute. That was a good incentive for the Priests to keep the tributes high and flowing to their masters, but in doing so, they pushed the workers who provided that tribute beyond their limits, into virtual slavery.

The Nords refused to stand still for that, and rebelled, and the Dragon Priests retaliated, but that didn't collect non-existent tribute. When the Dragon Priests couldn't deliver the tribute or control the populace, the dragons' response was swift and brutal. The Dragon War was on.

Somewhere in there, Miraak was born, became a Dragon Priest himself, was granted a mask, and was taught the Bend Will shout by Hermaeus Mora. Yssha would have liked to ask him if Herma-Mora had told him he was Dragonborn and what that meant. While Miraak was one of those soul-guests, he'd retreated behind a mental wall in the deepest recesses of her mind, and refused any communication, so that wasn't possible.

She knew from Paarthurnax that Hakon One-Eye, Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, and Felldir the Old had learned the Thu'um from him, and gone against Alduin. But had they gone to the First Dragonborn for help? They might have, because Miraak had seemed confident, when she'd talked to him the first time, that he could've taken the Firstborn. She regretted, now, that she hadn't asked the three Tongues about it while she'd been in Sovngarde - maybe she'd remember, next time.

* * *

Lakeview Manor

Marcurio received a note, about two weeks after the one that had led Yssha to surrender to the Thalmor.

"It's another 'enemy' note," the courier who delivered it said, handing it over, looking apprehensive.

Marcurio tore the envelope open with trembling fingers. He'd barely started to read it before he turned to Ahkrinbo. "Call Odahviing, please."

The guard dragon did so, and when the great red dovah landed, Marcurio began reading aloud.

"I must say, your little cat is proving more enjoyable than I had expected. She screams nicely, even tongueless, when I or my soldiers rape her, or my partner or our colleagues apply their expertise in other forms of interrogation. Not that she can tell us anything, of course.

"By the time this reaches you, though, I may have tired of her. But our student interrogators are as capable as my partner and I at keeping her entertained and out of action. She has only died twice, at least so far, though if I've turned her over to the students, that may have changed."

Odahviing snarled flame.

"No more," Marcurio swore as the two dragons Shouted their anger. He cast Summon Person for his wife, but was stopped cold by a powerful warding spell. "Nevan! Serana!"

They came running out of Lakeview. "What is it?" Nevan asked.

"Read this. We've got to get her out of there, no matter what she said."

"No," Odahviing said flatly. "You will not stop her tempering prematurely."

"But the bastards're raping and torturing her!" Marcurio protested.

Odahviing shrugged. "Foes have been doing such to each other since the Dawn Era. We hate it being done to our thur, you must know that. But she submits willingly to Bormah Akatosh's will, as a proper mon - daughter - should." He gave Marcurio a hard stare. "No dovah will disobey Bormahu, and if you try, we will not cooperate in such disobedience."

Grams had emerged from the Manor and read the note during that exchange, and she sighed. "And without dragon assistance, we have no chance. Besides, I think we need to eliminate the threat to Paarthurnax and the remaining Greybeards before we do anything else. Yssha'd never forgive herself if we let them get killed. Got any ... ah, never mind. I know where to find exactly the people we need for that mission."

She turned to Marcurio. "You know Brynjolf, don't you?"

"Yeah. And Vex, and Karliah. Let's go."

* * *

Their next stop was the Thieves Guild in Riften, through the Ratway to the Ragged Flagon with no subtlety whatsoever. When they arrived, the Guild seniors were alarmed and alert.

"Brynjolf!" Grams snapped. "Guild courtesy - I need your best sneaks. We have to rescue the Greybeards and Paarthurnax from their Thalmor threats, if there are any there, then ... wait for Yssha to let us know where she is. The Divines-cursed Thalmor ... " She tossed him the note. "See for yourself."

Brynjolf read it, then snarled. "Vex, Delvin, Karliah - on Guildmaster Ysshaya. Full gear, and be ready to fly."

"Bring white camouflage," Grams ordered.

When they left Riften for Monahven, it was with Marcurio, Nevan, and Serana on Odahviing, Grams and the Thieves Guild trio on Lokbiidaan.

Odahviing and Lokbiidaan circled the Throat of the World before landing near Paarthurnax, who was perched as usual on his Word Wall. "You're all right?" Marcurio asked.

"I am well," the old dragon replied. "I have seen no one on the mountain since Master Borri's murder, and I have left only to get supplies for the rest. But I have been informed of Dovahkiin's courageous actions on their and my behalf, and I certainly know about the notes. What are your plans?"

"I'm taking these three down to High Hrothgar to reconnoiter, and take out any non-Greybeards we find," Grams replied. "The rest will stay here in case you're attacked."

Paarthurnax chuckled. "Take Lokbiidaan with you. I follow the Way of the Voice, true, but I can and do fight if I must. As when I aided Dovahkiin and Marcurio in their first battle with Alduin. I am, rather obviously, dragonborn, so that is a judgement I have the right, even in the Way, to make."

"Right," Grams said. "He's a little obvious, though, so we'll only fly partway. Keep the rest, just in case. Let us specialists do the sneak entry."

"I'm as much of a sneak specialist as you are," Nevan pointed out. "And I've got advantages in a fight that you four don't."

"Okay, you can come along, but you'll have to do it on Odahviing; Lokbiidaan can't carry five. Follow us."

The two dragons landed just out of sight of the monastery, returning to the summit after their riders dismounted.

The group made its way down to High Hrothgar, careful to remain out of sight. Nobody from a tropical island like Summerset would be willing to remain out in the cold of High Hrothgar's exterior, Grams was sure, but she cast Detect Life several times as they circled the monastery, just to be sure. There was nothing, but they were still cautious as they entered. The damn Thalmor were as tricky as they were treacherous, after all.

But they were greeted by Master Arngeir when they entered. "Divine Crusader ... it is an honor to have you here."

Grams bowed. "An equal one to be here, Master Arngeir. My Knights and I pray for Master Borri's soul."

"That is kind of you. But why are you and ... these others ... here?"

Grams' tail-tip twitched. "To check on your safety, Master. It's one of the few things we can do while my greats-granddaughter is in Thalmor custody."

Arngeir sighed. "I understand. But I would prefer you had not brought strangers here."

Grams didn't apologize. "Security, Master Arngeir. If she's afraid for you, she might not do anything against them even after she's freed. So we have to be able to reassure her. Which means a thorough search, and then securing the monastery."

Arngeir sighed. "If you must, I suppose you must. I can assure you there are no strangers here."

"I believe you, but it's not just people I'm thinking about. Magical traps that can be remotely triggered are my primary concern. We know your food supplies are safe, since Family Marcurio provides most of those, Paarthurnax the rest." She smiled briefly. "Four of us are mages, the other three expert at finding well-hidden things. This monastery is large, but we're good at what we do, and the Thalmor's opportunities to plant things were limited, or you'd have found him. So it shouldn't take more than an hour or so."

X

Her prediction was accurate; an hour and a half later, she was reporting to Master Arngeir, and the rest were outside, in the rear courtyard. "The monastery's clear, Master. We didn't even find traces of attempts to set traps - I'm beginning to wonder if the whole thing, after killing Master Borri, wasn't a gigantic bluff to keep Yssha under control."

"So you will not be concerned about our security?"

Grams had to think how to answer that. The way he'd phrased it, a simple answer either way meant she wouldn't be concerned. "We'll still need to mount guards, because we'll have to reassure Yssha, once we're released to rescue her. But the mountain itself will provide most of your security. We'll only have to keep an eye on the Seven Thousand Steps, and a couple of routes a good climber could take to get to you."

Master Arngeir nodded. "We thank you for keeping intrusions to a minimum, and I understand your desire to reassure Dovahkiin."

"I'll take my leave, then. Blessings of the Nine on you all."

"And on you," Arngeir replied.

* * *

Valenwood, Arenthia

Ormil was in bad trouble no matter what he chose to do, and he knew it. He'd fled the werewolf attack in a panic a week ago, and had been living off the country ever since, afraid to find a Thalmor outpost and report the attack. He knew he should warn his superiors that the Imperials had at least three werewolves helping them, as well as the dragons ... but he'd panicked and run from battle, which was both cowardice and desertion, a death penalty offense.

He'd survived the week, but it hadn't been easy, since he hadn't thought to grab any supplies. So now he was out of essentials like salt, arrows, and healing potions. Oblivion, he'd be in better shape if the Imperials caught him than if his own Thalmor did! They might hate him, and they were no fonder of deserters or cowards than his own people were, but they might just make him a prisoner, rather than killing him.

That thought decided him. He could probably survive another day or two, long enough to reach the border, but not much beyond that. So he set out north-east, more or less, to where he thought he remembered seeing an Imperial camp on the tactical map.

He stumbled into their sentry line late the following afternoon, having left his blunted sword and broken eating-knife on the ground when he thought he was getting close. When he saw his first sentry, he raised his hands. "Please ... I surrender - ?"

The sentry yelled for backup, then approached, and shook his head. "Great Divines - what happened to you, kid?"

Did he look that bad? "I ... I panicked and ran from a werewolf attack. Then wandered for the last week ... I think. I kind of lost track of time."

A couple of others ran up, one in Legion officer's armor, the other in a scarlet surcoat with a yellow stylized dragon. "What have we here?" the Legionnaire asked.

"Survivor of Faal Mungrohiik's first raid, looks like," the first one replied. "He wants to surrender."

"All right, " the officer said. "Search him for hidden weapons." When that was done with nothing found, he studied the captive. "How old are you?"

Ormil shook his head. "Uh ... twenty-five."

"By the Nine - the Tharmor are cradle-robbing, are they? I didn't think they took anyone under thirty, and preferred forty." The Legionnaire sighed. "Come with me. You've been out in the jungle, so you'll need to be checked for contagious diseases. And fed, from the looks of you."

Ormil was surprised at how relieved he felt to be in custody instead of on the run. He had to obey his captors, but they were surprisingly non-hostile, taking him to be checked by a healer, then feeding him and assigning him to a tent and bedroll in the confinement section of the camp. He was the only Altmer, and most of the others here were short-term prisoners, mostly for drunk and disorderly or fighting someone they shouldn't have.

He did have to tell them what he'd done, and that got - again, surprising him - sympathy instead of condemnation. "Oblivion, kid," one said, "I was there that night. Can't blame a youngster for panicking - hells, I was tempted to run myself, and he was on our side!"

Ormil fell asleep that night, more comfortable than he'd been in weeks. He didn't know what would happen to him, and at the moment, he didn't really care. He was healthy, fed, clean, and warm. That would do very nicely for now.

* * *

While Ormil was on the run, then beginning his captivity, Sorcalin and Andreius worked on Faal Mungrohiik's reputation whenever a dragon brought word of a situation where a werewolf might be of help. One instance was a Khajiit village near the Valenwood border that Thalmor had infiltrated and were holding hostage, though the dragon who brought the information had no idea of the reason. The village and Thalmor were contained by a cordon of Legionnaires and a Skyguard patrol team, so it was a good demonstration.

Another was a Legion assault on a vampire den that went bad when the Legionnaires were followed into the vampire cave by more vampires, Volkihar ones who'd been hidden nearby, accompanied by several thralls and death hounds. This was the most difficult of the "reputation" battles because of the vampires' powers, but after a long hour or so, the vampires were dust, mostly in Legionnaire's pouches to sell as alchemy ingredients. Unfortunately, three of the Imperials were dead as well, and most of the rest wounded, but all had anti-disease amulets, and if they were smart, would visit a shrine or temple just in case.

When they emerged from the cave, Sorcalin found Durnehviir waiting. By this time, Sorcalin's reputation was such that when he mounted the dragon, no one was surprised, and the Legionnaires cheered them when Durnehviir took off.

* * *

Eastmarch Hot Springs

Faregar was enjoying himself immensely. He'd expected a fairly boring wait while Fusmulgar's egg was maturing enough to lay. Once she laid the first one, they started getting visitors other than Odahviing. When she laid a second a couple of days later, she preened, and the number of visitors increased. It was rare, she'd already told him, for a dovahin to lay more than one egg, a sign that she was particularly favored by Bormah.

Her third and fourth eggs were apparently unprecedented, because dragon visits increased greatly, and Skyguard squadrons began patrolling. After that started, Farengar waited for one of the rare times they were alone to ask Fusmulgar, "Is that an honor guard?"

She rumbled amusement. "I believe so. It is not for practicality, after all, since a single dragon is more than adequate to keep even giants or sabrecats away. So it is clearly something else."

"You remind me," Farengar said slowly. "When a major change takes place, the Divines give us a sign, and often a saint appears."

Fusmulgar snorted. "I am no saint! By your people's standards, all dovahin are ... less than respectable." She gape-grinned. "Not that we care, but I do believe Dovahkiin is somewhat embarrassed on our behalf. Her male vahrinne are simply jealous of her ahmul - her husband. Would you like to mate her?"

Farengar's breath caught in surprise. "Would I - what?"

"Like to mate Dovahkiin when she returns?" Fusmulgar repeated patiently. "You are powerful, and thus attractive, and as I understand it, your permanent mate is a friend of hers."

"Um." Farengar had to give that some thought before he answered. "Part of me would," he replied slowly. "She's beautiful, no question of that. But while our marriage vows say nothing about fidelity, it's pretty much taken for granted that sex should only be between husband and wife." He chuckled. "Of coourse, 'should be' doesn't mean 'always is', but I plan to be faithful to Arcadia, and there's never been even a rumor that the Dragonborn's been less than faithful to Marcurio."

"Ah. So her dovahin nature has not been awakened. With customs like those, that might be for the best, though she is missing much." Fusmulgar looked at her eggs and back to Farengar. "I hope she returns before these hatch. It would be pleasant to have her here for the occasion."


	52. Dragon War

Again, timelines and lore are less than helpful or even consistent about this time, so I've essentially had to wing it. For instance, one source says Vahlok's rule was after he defeated Miraak, but clearly places it before the rebellion, yet another source says the Tongues sought out Miraak's help during the Dragon War.

* * *

Chapter 52 - Dragon War

04 First Seed, 5E 3

Alinor

Lokmoroyol was unusually serious that morning, Yssha thought. Assuming it was morning, of course - the beginning of her "day", at least. _We have showed you a brief outline of our history,_ she sent. _You have seen us at the beginning as Bormah intended us to be, and what you are restoring us to. You have seen the humans beginning to worship us, and the way worship corrupted first Alduin, then the rest of us. You have seen much of why the humans decided they had to overthrow our rule_.

She sent a sigh. _Now you must see the culmination of so many years of combined error by humans and arrogance by dragons. A result no one on either side had either the foresight or wisdom to prevent We have already given you an overview; now it is time for the full story_.

The dovah didn't realize it was even a rebellion, at first. Their priests simply reported a shortage of offerings and sacrifices, and that no one was around when they sent their soldiers to collect. Then Frinfahdaan went to check on one of his priest's reports that men were starting to fight his soldiers. What he found was a band of men partially clad in his warriors' armor, and equipped with their weapons. When he landed to demand an explanation, he was attacked - and it surprised him so much he'd taken a sword to the throat before he thought to Shout - and became the first dragon to die at the hands of men.

He didn't remember going anywhere. His next memory was of Alduin resurrecting him to fight again, and this time winning. The joorre died in great numbers, but they were cunning, hiding in caves and other places where dovah could neither see nor reach them. There were still those who worshipped the dovah, of course, but relatively few, the greater priests gone, only a few of the lesser ranks remaining.

One of the greater priests had rebelled, but not with the other humans, and out of arrogance, not fear. Miraak had turned the temple he supervised into a fortress, and started killing dragons, taking their souls as if he'd been a dragon himself. His treason had been revealed by the ruler of Solstheim, another Dragon Priest named Vahlok, who took it on himself to kill Miraak.

They fought both inside and outside the temple, a prolonged and brutal battle of powerful magic, weapons, and Thu'um. Storms and earthquakes raged around the combatants, one particularly severe quake ripping a wide chasm that separated Solstheim from the rest of Skyrim. Frinfahdaan's memory showed it clearly as the battle continued.

After almost two days, Vahlok gained the upper hand and was about to strike the killing blow when a huge mass of dark, writhing tentacles seized Miraak and vanished.

* * *

Yssha knew she wasn't getting all of the story. She couldn't, since she hadn't absorbed Alduin's soul thanks to Bormah Akatosh's claiming it instead, and the most important other dragon participants - Paarthurnax, Odahviing, Dovgrahaak - were still alive. Plus she had nothing at all from the human side; those participants were in Sovngarde or whatever other afterlife their souls were suited to. But that it had been a ruthless and hard-fought war on both sides was something she now felt deep in her soul, and she knew she'd do anything in her power to keep such devastation from happening again.

She sensed approval and satisfaction. This phase of her tempering was over; there was only a bit more she needed to be shown, and that she could get gradually, later. But her rescuers weren't quite ready, and while her vahriinne were angry about her captivity and mistreatment, that was something to be expected in wartime. No, the fury Bormah wanted them to display would have to come from something dov found totally abhorrent but was routine to all of Tamriel's vodov races. And it was something she needed to learn in her own body, not in dov memories.

* * *

Helgen

Kiraya and Erandur had decided to remain in Helgen, doing whatever work became available, once they finished their errand to Blackreach. It didn't seem likely, but they wanted to stay fairly close to Lakeview Manor in case they could be any help to her current team. They were currently sitting in the Helgen Inn and nursing mugs of, respectively, sweetened cream and ale. Kiraya had learned that admiring her claws and suggesting a friendly brawl shut up most Nords' scorn of milk-drinkers, which she thought amusing was beginning to enjoy. She was Khajiit, of course she liked milk! Or even better, cream, especially with a spoon of moon-sugar, but that was hard to find in Helgen. Normal sugar would do for now, Though Kharjo had promised to bring her some real moon-sugar next trip, assuming she was still here.

The inn was getting crowded, so she wasn't too surprised when a man and a woman took the other side of the table across from her and Erandur. Altmer, from their attitude obviously close, probably married. She purred. "This one is Kiraya of Orcrist, her companion Eradur, a priest of Mara."

"Voranil and Caranya, formerly of Alinor," the man replied with a smile. "We've been in Skyrim for some time, though. Farming outside Whiterun, most recently, until we learned how Skyhold welcomes those of all races. Which seems to be true."

"Even an Argonian in the City Guard," Caranya said. "That, from what we've seen, is unprecedented. And the Jarl a Khajiit, though her being Dragonborn probably accounts for that."

Kiraya chuckle-purred. "Erandur and Kiraya were briefly part of her personal adventuring team, and may be again. It was fun while it lasted, and the reason this one is in Skyrim at all. May she ask your reason?"

Voranil shrugged. "This late, and with the Thalmor hunted Empire-wide, why not? Our son Sorcalin is - or maybe now, was - a strong mage, and they tried to recruit him. He fled, and the Thalmor thought we had something to do with it. They captured and interrogated us - not as harshly as some - and eventually released us. They'd taken our farm, of course, and everything else we owned, just on suspicion. So we fled to Cyrodiil, claimed asylum, and were granted a loan to start over. We paid it off ten years later, then moved to Skyrim just in time to be suspected of being Thalmor ourselves because we were Altmer."

"We lived that down," Caranya added. "It took time, of course, but we'd been fortunate enough to buy good land, and magic helped in cultivating it. For farmers, we were fairly prosperous. Then came the dragon attack, and what happened afterward. When we heard Helgen had been rebuilt, and the surrounding farmland was relatively inexpensive, we came to check it out. We're in negotiations with Steward Lydia for a promising fifty-acre plot."

"You're fortunate the High King decided there was no point any longer in keeping Altmer or Bosmer out of Skyhold, once the Dragonborn surrendered to the Thalmor," Erandur said.

Kiraya thought for a moment, her ears twitching. "Your son's name is Sorcalin, you say?"

"yes - do you know anything about him?" Caranya asked, not sounding very hopeful.

"This one has heard that two close friends of the Dragonborn, one of them an Altmer Master Mage named Sorcalin, along with his friend Andreius Hargan, have returned to Lakeview Manor. She escorted them, and translated for them, for several months in Elsweyr. This one has not known a great many Altmer well, but she believes there is a greater than random resemblance. It is no guarantee, but - "

The couple stood, and Voranil smiled. "But it's something we need to check out," he said. "The Manor is east of here, I believe."

Erandur nodded. "Lady Mara grant he is your son."

"Thank you, Brother," Caranya said. "It would be the answer to almost two centuries of prayer, if so."

The two Altmer didn't say much as they started out the city's eastern gates. It seemed too much to hope for, but they didn't dare _not_ check out the first lead they'd had in decades. They'd been walking for a bit over two hours when a Khajiit in that scarlet surcoat met them.

"This one is J'zargo, rider of Ahkrinbo," he said "He wishes to inquire why you are bound for Lakeview Manor."

"Voranil and Caranya, hopefully soon of Helgen," Voranil introduced them. "Pursuing a very remote hope, Skyguard. We are hoping, despite the odds, that the Sorcalin staying at the Manor is our son."

"Ah, a Family affair." J'zargo sniffed delicately. "It is a possibility. Your scents are similar. Go ahead."

Approaching the Manor, the two Altmer were hesitant. A dragon near the door, a Nord in gold-embroidered surcoat rising to meet them. "Ralof of Riverwood, with Ahkrinbo," he introduced himself. "Your business?"

"We would like to see Master Mage Sorcalin," Caranya said. "There is a ... faint chance he is our son. If he isn't we will depart, and not return to disturb you."

"There's a resemblance," Ralof said. "Just a moment, and I'll see if he's free."

Inside, he found Sorcalin and Andreius at the table in the main hall. "Sorry to bother you, but there's an Altmer couple outside who say there's a chance they might be Sorcalin's parents."

The two rose, and Sorcalin sighed. "I suppose I should check, but the odds aren't very good. If we even remember each other - it's been a good two centuries since I've seen them."

It was with some hesitation that he stepped outside, followed by Andreius and Ralof. As soon as he saw the couple, though, his hesitation vanished. They hadn't changed much in the last two centuries, except for looking like they'd been through some hard times. "Mother? Father?"

"Sorcalin!" And he was in their arms, his mother sobbing, his father still a bit disbelieving.

Ralof grinned and went back inside, to tell the rest. Some good news amid all the worry and tension of the last several weeks would be more than welcome, he thought.

The trio were still in a huddle when he re-emerged, the rest of the household with him. When it broke up, Marcurio approached with a smile, Grams close behind him, while the rest hung back. "Welcome to Lakeview Manor," he said, introducing himself and Grams.

The next few minutes were spent exchanging introductions, then Sorcalin's mother looked at her son. "You're moving in exalted circles, son. I can see we have a lot to catch up on."

Grams grinned. "Come on inside, and you can do just that, and have something to eat and drink at the same time."

"We don't want to be any trouble," Voranil protested. "We just wanted to find out if this was _our_ Sorcalin - we didn't intend to intrude."

"Believe me, we don't consider it an intrusion - hosting your reunion would be a welcome distraction. Please, let us share your joy."

Caranya smiled. "When you put it that way, Champion - we follow the news, and we understand what you're going through, with a beloved family member missing and in enemy hands. We feared the same was true of Sorcalin, when he disappeared."

Sorcalin let his regret show. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you anything - the Thalmor were too close behind me. I hope my disappearance wasn't too hard on you."

"Inside," Grams said, grinning, and nothing more was said until they were inside and settled at the dining table in the main hall. "And no titles, please - I'm Ysshaya."

Then Voranil turned to his son with a shrug, answering his concern. "The Thalmor took everything we owned, and imprisoned us for about a month, but we weren't tortured, unlike many others. All in all, we got off pretty lightly, and when we were released, we made our way to Cyrodiil. The Empire granted us asylum, including a loan to get re-established, and after the required residence and education, we became citizens."

"The Empire's good that way," Marcurio said.

"Yes, they are," Caranya agreed. "Talos grant they remain so."

"Talos?" Sorcalin asked curiously. "You've begun worshipping the Nine?"

"When his people are the ones who welcomed us when our own essentially threw us out? Of course." Caranya chuckled.

The conversation went on late enough that Rayya put Freyr to bed, and an hour later insisted that they be quiet so the boy could get his sleep.

* * *

Imperial Military Camp, near Valenwood border

Praetor Marcus called out one of the prisoners who'd been tossed in the brig for inappropriate fighting. Antonius happened to be one of his aides, with a temper that was a little more fiery than it should be.

"What do you think of the Altmer?" he asked.

"The kid?" Antonius grinned, then shrugged. "Good kid. Not aggressive, so it's not surprising he ran rather than face either Faal Mungrohiik or his superiors. Planning on anything special for him?"

"Not with that evaluation. I'd hoped he might be turned, but if he's non-aggressive, that wouldn't do us much good. So send him behind the lines, I suppose, and intern him for the duration."

"Probably best. Maybe groom him for some administrative position after we win the war."


	53. The Bet

Caution to anyone easily offended - this chapter contains sexual references rather than violence. If you think that will bother you, please wait for the next chapter.

* * *

Chapter 53 - The Bet

05 First Seed, 5E 3

"Excuse me, sir and ma'am?"

Ungarion turned to the leader of his and Nerissa's soldiers. "What is it, Seridur?"

"The boys have challenged me, sir. Bet me a hundred gold I can't get the cat, here, hot enough to beg me to take her. Well, not beg, exactly, with no tongue, but you know what I mean. So I'd like to give it a try while she's got her fur and isn't hurting too badly."

Lokmoroyol was monitoring their conversation, as always, to help Yssha's soul-guests prepare for whatever the enemy planned. At this, she nudged their hostess. _Thuri, this sounds intriguing. One of them wants to see if he can arouse you._

 _Mmm. I suppose I ought to find out, as well,_ Yssha thought tiredly.

 _"Oh, I have no doubts,_ Lokmoroyol sent. _You are dovahin, after all, and the attentions they were sure were unwelcome, were not. But we are here, just in case._

Ungarion found the sergeant's words amusing. "After this many weeks of daily multiple rapes? You have a very high opinion of your amatory prowess, Seridur. But for the sake of your bet, if Nerissa agrees, I have no objection."

"Nor do I," Nerissa agreed. "It ought to be at least somewhat interesting, and probably amusing. Certainly, Seridur. See if you can get her to willingly be sheath to your sword."

"Thanks," Seridur said, grinning. "I can't really lose, after all. It's just that if I win, I get a hundred gold out of it, as well as the use of her body." He turned to the two troopers ready to carry out Nerissa's instructions for the skinning. "Release her feet, and ... hmm. Slide a blanket or two under her. I want her as comfortable as she can be without freeing her hands."

As they obeyed, he got out of his armor, and Yssha held her head up to watch. Having Lokmoroyol and the rest mediating the rapes had made them bearable, the pain muted to where she was barely aware of it, and she'd come to share the dovahin taste for multiple powerful partners ... at least in their memories. Now she couldn't help wondering if any of it would carry over, and if so how strongly.

Seridur mistook her curiosity for apprehension, and smiled, stroking her face. "Take it easy, pretty kitty-cat. This isn't going to be anything like the way we usually do it, unless you make me do it the hard way. You were listening to us?"

She nodded, making a questioning noise.

"Why?" His hand went a bit lower, caressing her throat. "Partly for the money, but curiosity, too. Soldiers sent to Aequina and Pelletine say the cat slave-whores they usually have to use can be almost as good as an Altmer one. It's kind of perverse, but I'm gonna treat you, at least this once, like an expensive Altmer courtesan, as much as I can under the circumstances. It'll be better for you if you go along. Understand?"

Yssha nodded, and gave him a tentative-sounding purr.

"That's a good kitty," he said approvingly, stripping off his armor-padding and laying beside her on the rack, doing as he'd said, caressing her, becoming slowly more intimate - too slowly, in her opinion, but bound as she was, and unable to speak, she couldn't encourage him with more than purring.

Seridur was pleasantly surprised when he nuzzled her breast, tickling her nipple with his tongue, and she opened her legs. he slid his hand down between them, surprised again to find her moist, and yet again when she began rubbing against his hand, gasping. He felt himself harden, and savored the eagerness as her breath caught.

"Easy, kitty, easy," he said. "No need to rush, you know." He teased her, gently slipping a finger into her, and she whimpered. Eager, was she? He smiled, then slid himself between her legs, replacing his hand, and began slow thrustings. Not into her, not yet, but she was soaking both of them, gasping and moaning in what he was positive was genuine eagerness.

This was torment, Yssha thought, but of an entirely different kind than she'd experienced from a Thalmor before. She growled in frustration, squirming to find a position where he couldn't avoid - AH! She felt him barely make it in, and took full advantage, pushing herself up. This time, fully aroused, there was no pain or blood, just a wonderful feeling of fullness and desire for more. She didn't have the leverage to get him all the way in, but she began moving as much as she could manage, her legs going around him in encouragement.

Seridur let himself go. The cat not only didn't resist, she was doing everything a bound, muted prisoner could to encourage him and keep him going. When he climaxed, she forced herself against him, yowling.

When he was done, she whimpered again, and he grinned down at her as he stood. "Liked it, huh? Well, kitty, so did I. Heating you up has one hell of a payoff, I must say."

"That looked ... enjoyable," Nerissa said. "How was she, really?"

"Damn good," Seridur said. "I hate to give a beast-woman so much credit, but ... maybe the best I've ever had."

"Really?" Ungarion said, raising an eyebrow. "I know you've had Ayarie at the Golden Feather; I hired her for you myself, the first time you saved my life. Better than that?"

"Yes, sir. Ayarie does it 'cause she's paid, and I think she fakes it a little. The cat _wanted_ it, once I heated her up a bit."

"That was rather obvious, with even a tiny knowledge of reading body language," Ungarion said drily. "And it looks like she might want more." He walked over to the rack, looking down at Yssha. "Am I right? Do you?"

Yssha nodded, purring and wriggling her hips. Ungarion grinned. "Very well. Even though it goes against my grain giving you a break, our orders were to keep you out of action, and torture is only one enjoyable way to do so. Nothing says you can't be our squad's whore as well. And I think I'll test Seridur's assertion for myself."

* * *

When he rose, Ungarion turned to Nerissa. "He was right. She's almost as enjoyable as you or Eliante, lover. And she seems insatiable." Actually, she was better, but that wasn't something he'd tell either of his Altmer primary lovers. He looked back at the prisoner. "Or am I misreading you, Dragonborn?"

Yssha shook her head. She might not be insatiable, as he said, but it seemed her dovahin sexual appetites carried over completely to her kaaz form. She did want more, even though the blanket beneath her was already soaked. That would be a problem, more than likely, if she ever got home.

"Very well. Seridur, set up a cot for her somewhere in this room. Keep her arms chained, but allow enough slack for her to respond to caresses. As long as she behaves, she may have a few comforts."

Nerissa smiled. "And I'll stop skinning her, if she's to be servicing our men as their whore, rather than our prisoner. They may not mind crushed joints or missing teeth, but a missing skin is a whole different matter." She paused. "And if the cat's that good, maybe we can rent her out to others, as well."

Yssha wasn't paying attention to the discussion, too engrossed with another soldier, but Lokmoroyol was, and she approved. Poor as it was, the ground-bound version of the sky-dance was much easier on her thur than rape, skinning, and other tortures. If the fahliille wished gold in exchange, that was nothing to her protection of her thur. Though when - or if - the living dovah found out ... well, attempting to enslave a dovah was unforgivable. Capturing one, as was done with Numinex, and holding him to insanity and death, was merely unfortunate. Enslaving one, as Miraak had done to many with the Bend Will Shout, had led to the razing of his Temple. And, Bormah being just, it had led to his slavery to Herma-Mora as well.

Seridur nodded. "Thank you, sir and ma'am. Just remember, to get that reaction, she'll have to be brought to arousal before the orgy starts."

"Understood. Make sure the troops know that."

"I will, my Lord. Permission to transfer any who refuse to understand, and would ruin it for the rest?"

"Granted."

Satisfied, Lokmoroyol settled in to enjoy Yssha's exploits, sharing them with their sisters as their brothers shuddered away from what the females enjoyed. As far as Lokmoroyol was concerned, that was their problem. The rest of this stay, however long it took, would have their thur building her own memories to share, and Bormah willing, she would build even more later.

* * *

Once outside the interrogation suite, Nerissa grinned at her partner. "Skinning her is both fun and profitable, but is she really _that_ enjoyable?"

"Actually, yes." Ungarion returned the grin. "We could make a fortune with her, and still fulfill our mission of keeping her out of commission. If we quit the torture, leave her whole except for the tongue, and do some redecoration. Torture instruments aren't exactly erotic, for most."

Nerissa looked thoughtful. "Trade one of my greatest pleasures for gold? I'm not sure."

"Think of it as gold from her, and we have plenty of other prisoners for you to amuse yourself with," Ungarion pointed out. "And you can always use your part of the earnings from her to buy slave studs, of course."

Nerissa thought about that for several minutes, then she nodded. "I see your point. Very well, she becomes our whore instead of our victim, if Eliante agrees to us taking over the suite for that purpose."

Ungarion laughed. "Offer her a twenty per cent cut, and she's ours. After that, it's marketing the cat."

"Yes. Can't go with advertising her as a beast, even though she is, so ... hmm."

"Make use of her as Dragonborn submitting to Thalmor," Ungarion said. "Exotic, beautiful - which she is, for a cat - and completely under our power."

"Yes ... yes, that would work." Nerissa grinned. "Also, make sure word gets to the mainland, that their precious Dragonborn is a willing whore to her most hated enemies. Let's find out what they think of her then. We'll have to come up with a fitting whore-name, too ... I rather like something on the order of Furdragon, that refers to both sides of her."

"We'll think of something appropriate. Let's go talk to Eliante, and then I'll write that note."

* * *

Yssha woke, warm, comfortable, and ... satisfied? She was confused. The last thing she remembered, she had been on the rack, with one of her guards - Seridur? soothing her before he ... no, it hadn't been rape, by any means. He'd been gentle, arousing her before he ... no, before she ... what had she done?

 _You took him as was proper for a dovahin,_ Lokmoroyol told her, _You truly wanted him, at least then, so you allowed him in, and he filled you, as did several others. Now the ones you call Thalmor wish to make you available for gold._

The dovahin sensed her disturbance. _Nid, thuri. Hin dovahin_. _It is proper to spread your favors as you will, though selling them is ... not a dov thing. But since you are under compulsion and not the one doing the selling, it cannot be vozin [dishonorable]._

 _What am I to do, then?_ Yssha practically wailed. _I do not wish to dishonor those who love me, but I cannot escape by myself, and the urge to mate ..._

Lokmoroyol sent comfort. _Do not resist, dii jud ahrk dii thur. They are making you more comfortable ... feel the softness under your back? While you are still bound, your chains are much longer, enough you can move around the room a bit, and use a chamber pot rather than soil yourself. And the torture instruments have been removed. Bormah will not allow you to be used by your enemies for long, but you are young yet, so our timelines may differ. Less than a century, I promise ... probably less than a decade._

 _That is not terribly reassuring_ , Yssha sent, drily. _I am barely twenty, so I do not think of a decade, much less a century, as a short time._


	54. Second Note from Ungarion

Author's Note: For those of you who chose to skip the last chapter, here's Lokmoroyol's reaction to the decision to turn Yssha into an enslaved whore: "If the fahliille wished gold in exchange, that was nothing to her protection of her thur. Though when - or if - the living dovah found out ... well, attempting to enslave a dovah was unforgivable. Capturing one, as was done with Numinex, and holding him to insanity and death, was merely unfortunate. Enslaving one, as Miraak had done to many with the Bend Will Shout, had led to the razing of his Temple. And, Bormah being just, it had led to his slavery to Herma-Mora as well."

* * *

Chapter 54 - Second Note from Ungarion

06 - 19 First Seed, 5E 3

Yssha's patrons weren't willing to let her remain a captive any longer than necessary, so it was Talos who accepted Ungarion's second note, in the guise of a novice Justiciar, went to a spot where he could see Lakeview Manor disguised as a Skyrim courier, and waited until he saw one of the inhabitants come outside.

As he emerged from Lakeview, Marcurio saw a courier approaching, and waited. "It's another one from 'An Enemy'", the courier said, handing him an envelope.

Marcurio sighed, and opened it, removing two sheets of paper.

"I am sure you will be pleased to know that your wife is no longer being tortured or raped. However, you may be less pleased to know the reason. Since my guard sergeant conducted an experiment on her, she has become far too valuable in a different way - too valuable to damage. Even my partner has stopped taking her pelts as they regrow.

"You see, my sergeant's experiment revealed her as extremely passionate, with an astonishing amount of drive. She was most enthusiastic about servicing a full shift of guards, and still wanted more. So I have obliged her. The interrogation suite has been turned into a gilded cage, its occupant the most exotic and ardent whore in the Dominion - and perhaps the most expensive. I keep her supplied with Thalmor men, and in return, my partner and I are becoming wealthy, despite taxes.

Since I no longer care if you know my name, I remain your faithful correspondent,

"Ungarion, Justiciar of the Aldmeri Dominion

"P.S. Our notices of her availability are being distributed throughout Tamriel. If you ever get her back, her reputation will have been destroyed. A copy is enclosed."

The second sheet of paper was an advertisement, and Marcurio snarled. It had a drawing of Yssha reclining on a bed naked, her pose clearly inviting, at the top, and below that:

"Justiciars Ungarion and Nerissa are pleased to announce that the fearsome Dragonborn has been tamed, enslaved, and is on exhibit in the Palace sub-basement for a very modest fee. She has proven to be as talented and enthusiastic in intimate matters as she is in combat, with seemingly inexhaustible capacity. Thalmor of any rank are invited to test her for themselves, with rank-based fees, between ten in the morning and midnight. Reservations and special arrangements may be made with her manager, Thalmor Sergeant Seridur."

Marcurio went inside long enough to get the rest of the rescue planners, then back outside to get Ahkrinbo to call Odahviing. When the red dovah joined them, at the far side of the clearing, he read the note aloud. The babble that rose subsided when Odahviing spoke. "You did not expect this?"

"No," Marcurio said. "Why would we?"

"Because she is dovah," Odahviing said matter-of-factly. "Dovahin, to be exact. You have all seen sky-dances."

Marcurio nodded. "But she - "

"You were her First," Odahviing interrupted. "And to the best of my knowledge, have been her only, until now. Is that correct?"

Marcurio nodded again.

"Then her dovahin nature remained dormant until her surrender and the rapes that followed. It takes several matings in a short time to awaken that." He thought for a moment. "Lokmoroyol is one of her waking guests, her soul-sibs, and would have shielded her from the pain of the rapes by sharing memories of sky-dancing. What this sergeant could have done to bring that to the fore in her kaaz body, though, I cannot speculate."

"I can," Sorcalin growled. "It's not a usual thing, but sometimes an interrogator will break into a series of rapes to show a female prisoner she's no longer capable of normal arousal. But this time one was, and her ... forgive me, Marcurio ... dovah lust came to the surface." He scowled. "But he gives his guard sergeant credit ... that his sergeant could do it I believe, since it's rumored Seridur has at least twice persuaded a whore to pay _him_. What's hard to believe is Ungarion crediting anyone else for a useful idea, or Nerissa not torturing anyone in her power. Especially when she could sell the Dragonborn's pelts for _very_ good money."

Marcurio had become coldly angry during Sorcalin's analysis. "You are forgiven, and his partner's ... forebearance may be because of the price they charge for using Yssha. I would very much like to know how much he charges for my wife, so I can take it out of his hide."

Andreius shook his head. "Don't think about it, friend. It wouldn't satisfy you." He turned to Odahviing. "Does this change your determination to attack the Isles, with her submitting to her ... clients?"

"No," Odahving growled, rising to his haunches and mantling his wings. "This just tells me that we are free to do something about it. The Ungarion and the Nerissa are dead, even if they still breathe. If collapsing that city would not harm her body, and require her to regenerate, I would summon all dov to flame it immediately." He looked at Andreius and Sorcalin. "You two have ... two weeks to rescue her. Then her vahriinne go in to do whatever is necessary to bring her out." He paused briefly. "Even if we have to burn down the entire city. It is not possible to tame or enslave a dovah, though it seems Bormah is allowing them to delude themselves of the opposite. Even the thought of it will drive most of us into fury."

"Understood," Sorcalin said. "Actually, this simplifies our planning. And now we're certain where she is, and that she's in no danger till we get to her." He turned to Andreius. "Not my prisoner any more. My favorite slave bodyguard, with me for a visit to whatever whore-name they've given her, which will be easy to find out once we're there."

Andreius nodded. "I like it. That way no one will question me being armored and armed - though they may wonder at a Justiciar with a personal bodyguard instead of Thalmor soldiers."

Sorcalin snorted. "In Thalmor society? No one questions a Justiciar, who has the power of life or death over anyone of lesser rank. Which is anyone other than a noble or the King. And I can illusion myself to look like a noble Justiciar. You won't be questioned."

Grams grinned. "Sounds good to me. I'm heading to Imperial City to let Titus know what's going on, and that we have both a firm location and an absolute deadline, so he can get the invasion moving. Then I come back, and we finalize our own plans."

"One thing," Marcurio said, primarily to Odahviing. "Try not to damage their palace, since that seems to be where those two Justiciars are. Their lives are _mine_."

Odahviing nodded. "I will spread the word." Then his attention went back to Grams. "Set the attack for noon, two weeks from today," Odahviing ordered. "That will give his other forces time to get in position, and our infiltrators two hours to get Dovahkiin out of the city." He turned to Sorcalin. "She deserves to see our revenge on her behalf. So find a spot where she can dress and watch. I will fly you in tonight."

* * *

They had found Sorcalin's family farm, which was now occupied by quiet peasants, and decided quite quickly that it wasn't a suitable teleport destination, so Sorcalin led his friend up a nearby hill. "I had a hideout up here when I was a boy ... maybe it's still there, and we can use it." It was a dirt cave, smaller than he remembered, but usable, so he memorized it as a teleport target, then 'ported back to Lakeview to pick up Yssha's armor and weapons, a supply of healing potions, and some food and drink. Once they'd stowed that, Sorcalion cast a minor aversion spell, so no one else would enter.

* * *

Back in Alinor city, they found a tavern near the palace, one frequented by Justiciars, and entered, taking a small table. Sorcalin ordered flower-wine for both of them. The serving-maid looked bubious, but obeyed, and a Justiciar approached. "Are you sure you want to be here, brother? This one looks like an Imperial."

Sorcalin grinned. "Because he is - third generation of my slave bodyguards. His grandfather was a bit reluctant, but his father served willingly. Andreius himself grew up in my service. Will you join us, brother?

"Gladly, then. I'm Norcaron." He waved for a barmaid, ordered more flower-wine for himself, and smiled. "I don't recognize you, brother. Are you here for anything special?

"I'm Sorcalin, in from Valenwood on leave, and yes. I heard about the Dragonborn being tamed, and thought it might be interesting to hire it as a treat for Andreius. Maybe myself, if the rumors are true."

"Valenwood? You have my sympathies. But yeah, the Dragon Lady's been tamed - I had her myself, once." Norcaron grinned. "She's unbelievable until you've had her. It's a wonder the King lets anyone else use her, or it would be, if he could persuade the Queen to go along."

"Really?" Inwardly, Sorcalin cursed. "We heard she was available in the sub-basement cells, and quite expensive."

"Both true; the King only takes her once a day, at most; rumor says the Queen's made it clear she won't tolerate more than that. Won't let Prince Imiril do more than look, poor kid." Norcaron grinned. "Which the rest of us appreciate. Not that you'd ever recognize her cell as anything but a bordello room, now. Silks, velvets, furs ... her manager keeps her in luxury, and rightly so. For a beast-woman, she's beautiful, and so soft ... so eager ... " Norcaron sighed. "If you can get in first for the day, and restrain yourself long enough to warm her up, it's said she's ... more dragon than Khajiit. After that, just incredible, not superlative." He grinned. "Oblivion, they don't even chain her any more, unless the client asks specifically."

Andreius wanted to grin at that, but frowned instead. "That sounds ... odd. As a professional, how do I know if she's secured well enough to insure my master's safety?"

Norcaron chuckled. "You've nothing to worry about. The suite she's in is heavily warded, inside against magic cast by anyone but Thalmor, and outside against any retrieval or eavesdropping type spells. She can't cast spells or Shout, since they keep her tongue trimmed back to a stub. No clothing, so she can't hide a weapon even if she got hold of one. And her claws've been trimmed, ever since she accidentally clawed one of her guards trying to get him in deeper."

"That sounds safe enough, I suppose," Andreius said, his tone grudging. He turned to Sorcalin. "The lack of chains still bothers me a bit, though, master. Will you ask for those?"

Sorcalin chuckled. "I think not. I'll trust the precautions Norcaron describes, plus that sword of yours. Or her being in your arms for the other one."

"Put that way, all right," Andreius said.

"Oh, if you want to get in before your leave's up," Norcaron added, "I'd talk to seridur first thing. She's usually booked well in advance, but you might get lucky. Or bribe him, if you can afford it."

"First thing in the morning," Sorcalion said "If we can reserve her for early in the day we leave, it'd make going back to Valenwood a bit less awful."

"Then you might want to add a few prayers to Dibella in Her Temple," Norcaron said with a grin. "And have a heavy purse when you talk to Seridur."

* * *

Interlude in Stormhaven

Yssha found herself in Stormhaven, unsure how it had happened this time. The last she remembered was a new client entering her room, then she was here, with Talos, in Lakeview's sitting room. He smiled at her. "Welcome, briinah."

"It is pleasant to see you, zeymah," she said, returning the smile. "I am pleased you are still willing to talk to me, after what I have become."

That made him laugh. "A prostitute for the Thalmor, and enjoying it? Briinah, that's nothing to be ashamed of, though it would've been nice if you could've made that particular discovery about yourself in friendly territory."

"But - "

He chuckled. "As you keep telling others, you're a dragon, and you've experienced their memories of sky-dancing. Of course you'd want and enjoy it in your own body." He chuckled again. "Promiscuity is part of being dovah, and physically, it's easier for a woman - you don't have to recover between couplings. You can have as many as you want, whenever you want. Divines know I was busy enough!"

"You?" Yssha was astonished. "But you were a perfect husband and gentleman!"

Talos laughed. "So history's been sanitized, has it? No, I wasn't. I never raped anyone, true, but then, that's not a dragon thing, with the dovahin eager to - excuse the crudity - frig any male dovah in the vicinity."

"I do not understand." Yssha's eartips were burning. Yes, she knew all about the eager sky-dancing, but ...

"Oblivion, girl! There's no such thing as a chaste Dragonborn - I don't think it's even possible. I bedded anyone who wanted me, if time permitted, and there were a lot, from high nobles to tavern wenches. Never less than one a day, more often three or four. I'd be surprised if there's any human in Tamriel who can't claim a trace of Septim blood, and no few mer. No Khajiit or Argonians only because inter-species fertility has to be deliberate."

He studied her, then sighed. "You've worshipped me your entire life, which I appreciate, but the Talos you took for an example was an idealization. Power's an aphrodisiac, you know, and I was a conqueror and then Emperor. You're Stormcrown, the equivalent. You're going to get propositioned a lot, once you're freed, since by then it'll be common knowledge that you've been bedding a lot of Thalmor on a daily basis, and enjoying it."

Yssha felt like hiding, but knew he was simply alerting her to a new reality she would have to face. "Is there ... anything I can do about that, with my reputation ruined?"

Talos shrugged. "Don't think of it like that, briinah. Flaunt it instead. Bormah will make sure your husband understands. You won't be able to run around naked, of course, and I'm not saying you should take everyone who wants you, or be indiscreet about when and where. But modifying your armor to have a Legion-style kilt, and bedding anyone you feel like, whenever and wherever _you_ want, will let people get used to it, and eventually take it for granted. In a couple of years, probably, if you're open enough."

"But those years will be ... difficult," Yssha protested.

Talos nodded. "Unfortunately, yes, and it's already starting. Ungarion's made sure to send his advertising flyers to every province in the Empire, and they're circulating. Until society learns it has to make an exception for Dovahkiin, a lot of people will disapprove. And there's the fact that men you've never seen, much less met, are going to boast of having bedded you. It's a status thing, you know."

Yssha groaned. "I suppose you are correct, as usual. So if I will be claimed as a conquest by so many, I might as well truly bed those I would enjoy."

Talos smiled. "That's how I worked it. I did bed any woman who asked, if time and location allowed, but I was also claimed by quite a number I was never anywhere near." He paused. "I'll take care of modifying your armor, by the way."

* * *

By the deadline Odahviing had set, everything was ready for the rescue and assault. Besides the prayers to Dibella and a hefty bribe to Seridur - who'd proven surprisingly protective of the Dragon Lady, grilling Sorcalin for several minutes to assure himself he meant her no harm - they had spent Sorcalin's "leave time" scouting Alinor City. Evenings they 'ported home, sketching maps and detailing defenses, especially those close to the Palace, so the dragons and Imperial forces both had intelligence neither had dared expect.

That hadn't meant too many plan changes, actually, aside from a dragon attack on a Thalmor training compound perhaps five miles outside the city. That would get a squadron attack, while the main force went after the Thalmor fleet and Alinor City itself. It was probably fortunate that the docks were stone, instead of wood; once the Altmer fleet was burned, the Imperial fleet could dock, and the Legion assault be launched from there.

Outside the capital, the Empire had few targets. A couple of heavily militarized cities rated a dragon squadron or two apiece, but farms and villages would be ignored as not worth the effort unless they proved otherwise, in which case they might get a dragon - two, at most.

* * *

Author's Note to **Jarius Za'adran** : You read everything in four days? Considering the length, that must have been almost nonstop! That's a real compliment to a writer - thank you very much.


	55. Rescue

.

Chapter 55 - Rescue

20 First Seed, 5E 3

Yssha's day started off as had become her routine. Seridur woke her at eight, bringing her dragon-tongue tisane, which she drank as she groomed herself for the day. Breakfast at nine, then Seridur briefing her on her clients for the day.

"It's going to be slow, I'm afraid," he began. "Your ten o'clock is a Justiciar Lord named Sorcalin and his bodyguard, here on leave from Valenwood, but after that ... something's come up, and the rest will probably cancel or just no-show."

Yssha refused to get her hopes up. Sorcalin wasn't exactly a common Altmer name, but it wasn't all that unusual, either. She reached for her pad and charcoal. "What is it?"

"A couple of Imperial fleets showed up overnight sometime - they're standing at anchor offshore, just out of weapon range. The High Commanders are in an uproar."

"Then I will have to hope those two are ... adequate."

"They paid the extra for stamina potions, and the Justiciar doesn't want me to prep you - says he can do it himself - so you should be okay. Want me to have some extra guards standing by, just in case?"

Yssha shook her head, with a don't-bother hand gesture, then wrote again. If it _was_ Uncle Sorcalin, she didn't want to make things difficult for him ... and she'd prefer to get Seridur out of the line of fire, as well. It was thanks to him, after all, that she was no longer being tortured. "Would like gleamblossom tisane after, then."

"Figures." Seridur chuckled. "I'll bring 'em down when they arrive, then head for Anitra's Specialties to get you some fresh gleamblossoms."

Yssha gave him a smile of thanks, and he left.

* * *

Seridur greeted the only two clients he really expected, showed them down to the sub-basement, and excused himself to go buy a treat for the Dragon Lady. "The guards and she are expecting you, my Lord, so just go on in. Her eleven o'clock and most of the others have cancelled, so take as long with her as you want."

"Those Imperial fleets?" Sorcalin asked. When Seridur nodded, he said, "I probably shouldn't indulge myself, but a single Justiciar visiting from Valenwood wouldn't be much use. Go ahead; we'll see ourselves out when we're done."

When Seridur was out of sight, they looked around. This special unit didn't hold many prisoners, but there were a number of guards, mostly looking bored at the occasional scream. Andreius counted ten, and there might be that many more out of sight, plus however many were in Yssha's suite.

There turned out to be three of those, and the senior stood when they entered. "Lord Sorcalin and bodyguard?"

"Yes," Sorcalin replied. "Sergeant Seridur said we're expected."

"Yes, my Lord." The trooper bowed. "Just a final reminder. You can do pretty much anything non-harmful to her that you want, but she's not to be injured. She screams in pain, and we check. We've been around her long enough to know her sounds."

"You're here to protect her?" Andreius asked in surprise.

"Mostly," the guard replied. "That, and add some finishing touches if her clients aren't quite enough to satisfy her."

"I don't think you'll need to worry about either one," Sorcalin assured them.

* * *

Yssha was on her bed, reclining as Seridur had coached her, when the Justiciar and bodyguard entered her room, and she caught familiar scents. Andreius looked like himself, but Sorcalin looked more aristocratic than usual, and as arrogant as a real Thalmor. She stood, smiling, and embraced both, purring.

Sorcalin gestured her to silence before remembering that wasn't necessary, and spoke softly enough the guards wouldn't be able to hear through the closed door. "Are you all right, youngster?"

Except for her tongue, she was fine, so she nodded.

"Good. We're getting you out of here. Let's try 'porting, first." He took her hand and Andreius', focusing on his childhood hideout. Not much to his surprise, the wards blocked him, so he shrugged. "We do it the hard way, then. You're unarmed, no armor, and can't spellcast or Shout, so stay behind us as much as you can."

Yssha nodded agreement. She could grab a weapon, but there was no way she'd be able to wear Altmer-sized armor, so in this case, there was almost nothing she could do.

Andreius grinned at his partner, unsheathing Moonbeam. "Let's do it."

Sorcalin nodded, then led the way back to the outer room, where he cast a paralysis spell on the guards, and Andreius killed them. Yssha disapproved - these guards had become _hers_ \- but she couldn't object. Once they were dead, she took a glass sword from one, then followed her honorary uncles out of the interrogation suite for the first time in ... how long? She had no idea. More than days, probably not years ... weeks? months?

A quick glance assured Sorcalin the sub-basement door was closed, so he moved toward the cells and the guards there. It wasn't long before they were spotted, and the guard drew his sword, moving toward them. "Who are you, and what're you doing with her? She ain't supposed to be out of her suite!"

Neither bothered replying, Andreius attacking immediately. The guard blocked with his blade, which did him no good, since Moonbeam cut it in two and continued moving, to nearly remove the guard's head.

Yssha felt useless, watching as her uncles slew Thalmor soldiers with blade and magic. The only action she personally saw was when one briefly got past Andreius, and she had to block with her sword, then Andreius spun, and took the guard's arm off, spattering her with blood.

It probably didn't take any longer than a fight against an equal number of bandits, but for Yssha, it dragged on for what felt like an entire dungeon run. At one point, she saw the couple of cells that had been set up as a tannery. Two pelts were still on tanning racks, several others bundled on a nearby table. These were hers, and she wanted them, so she memorized teleport points. She would definitely be back, as soon as she had a place within her range to put them!

With all the Thalmor dead, Sorcalin took their hands again and cast a teleport spell.

* * *

Yssha found herself in a dirt cave, an unexpectedly pleasant change from a Thalmor interrogation suite turned into a bordello room. Andreius took her jaws between his hands, and she felt the heat of a Healing Hands spell seep into her, then flesh regrowing until her tongue was whole. She swallowed a few times, surprised by how easy it was, again, then she tried to speak. "An ... Andreius. Sorcalin. Thank you." Her voice sounded strange, and being able to speak again was odd, but they smiled. "What ... how ... "

"Later, kiddo," Andreius said, smiling. "Get dressed first, then we talk." He pointed to a pile of dragonscale armor, complete with smallclothes and padding. She looked at it distastefully. "I have not worn anything in ... how long? Since I was taken."

"Two months and four days," Sorcalin replied. "I don't really want to ask this, but we need to know. What ... was happening to you?"

Yssha studied the pile of gear, trying to decide what she'd absolutely have to wear. Breastband and armor padding, definitely, but Talos had said he would modify her armor, so perhaps only the war-kilt for thigh protection and the shin guards and boots lower. She began dressing slowly, discovering the padding now included a knee-length linen skirt, a combination the Legion called a subarmalis. "Physically? Probably about what you would imagine. Rape and various other forms of torture, until about two weeks ago. Mentally, however, I was getting history lessons which shielded me from the physical. I knew it was going on, but my soul-guests shielded me from the pain and mental trauma."

"So Odahviing was right," Andreius said, with satisfaction. "The tempering was mental, rather than physical?"

"Precisely." Yssha winced. "I think it would have been easier the other way. Some of the things I remember from Alduin's thur-ship I ... cannot un-remember, much as I would like to. He fell from the heights of Akatosh almost to the depths of Mehrunes Dagon." Her voice took on an echoing tone. "I will not do the same, after the tempering. I know what temptations and dangers to avoid, the hard way."

"No, you won't," Andreius agreed. "Want some help, there?"

"If you would," Yssha replied. She could get into the armor by herself if she had to, but it was definitely easier with help. He fastened the war-kilt Talos had provided for waist-to-knee protection, then helped her into the cuirass, greaves, and gauntlets, and handed her her mace.

Then he smiled. "There - you look more like yourself. How do you feel?"

Yssha squirmed a bit, trying to get the cuirass to settle properly. "Awkward," she admitted then. "I had forgotten how heavy and restrictive even light armor can be. Though the kilt instead of rigid thigh protection may fit my combat style better."

Sorcalin chuckled. "After two months of wearing nothing at all, I think we can understand that. But you'll get used to it again quickly enough. And yeah, it probably will."

"It is reassuring, I must admit, to have the weight of my mace at my hip again. What is the plan?"

"As soon as you feel able to Shout, it begins," Andreius said. "Calling Odahviing will start the initial assault, then at noon, the big show begins."

"Big show." She felt ... she wasn't sure. She'd been out of touch far too long. "Please ... what is going on?"

"The end of the Second Great War," Sorcalin told her. "What's been happening while you were captive guarantees that. It starts when you summon the dragons, and Odahviing insisted you be close enough to see that part. They'll hit the city hard, except for the Palace; Marcurio wants to kill your two Justiciars personally, not risk them being killed by falling rocks or something. Then at noon, the ground assault begins. We have two Imperial fleets with two full Legions aboard, plus a large force of Argonians ready to come ashore."

Yssha nodded. "Then I have time to retrieve my pelts - at least the ones Nerissa did not give away or sell. I will be back shortly."

Before either of them could object, she 'ported to the cells. One of the prisoners saw her, and began begging her to release him and the rest, but since he didn't need immediate healing, she shook her head. "That will have to wait for the Legions, in about an hour and a half. My friends and I have no way to care for you, and if you are free when the fighting starts, you will undoubtedly be killed. Be patient for a bit more."

"Why're you here, then?"

"To reclaim the pelts Nerissa took from me. If I can find something to carry the loose ones in."

The prisoner grinned. "You'd be Dovahkiin, then. We heard the guards talking. Yeah, we'll wait for the Legion - and you should find a backpack in the storage room ... uh, to your left and about fifty feet away."

Yssha bowed her thanks. "My blessings on all the innocents here."

The man sagged in relief, and she moved away, to find the backpack. Once she had the loose pelts stowed, she touched both the full tanning racks, and 'ported back to the dirt cave.

Andreius gave her a resigned look as she stowed them and the backpack in the rear of the cave. "Are you ready now?"

"Yes." She moved to the mouth of the cave. "Od ... Ah-Viing! Dov...Grah-Aak!" Then, on impulse, "Dur ... Neh-Viir!"

Minutes later, she was both gratified and appalled as the largest group of dovah she had ever seen descended on Alinor City, in precise squadron formations, flaming and using Unrelenting Force.

Yssha watched the attack with mixed feelings. She was proud of the Skyguard's ability, dragons raking the city with fire and force, riders invisible at this distance but undoubtedly using distance weapons and magic to help kill Thalmor. At the same time, she knew such massive destruction was killing others as well as Thalmor, which she didn't like. And even though Seridur was a Thalmor, she bore him no ill will, and found herself hoping he would somehow manage to survive that inferno.

But she couldn't deny he'd changed her permanently, and she had no idea how she was going to cope. She had the sexual appetites of a healthy female dragon, in a society that strongly discouraged promiscuity, particularly in women. Even a priestess of Dibella, celebrating that Divine's more intimate rites, was often looked down on. Yet she'd gotten used to exactly that, and she had no desire at all to give it up If she even could, given what Talos had told her.

It would have been easier on her reputation if she were a man, she thought. They weren't supposed to be promiscuous either, but when one was, it was likelier to be excused, even sometimes admired. The two with her, for instance. They were attractive, and she was as certain as she could be without actual knowledge that neither of them had lacked for amatory partners. Yet she was equally certain they would be horrified if their "little Yssha" were to proposition them. So she wouldn't.


	56. Palace Assault

Author's Note: **Jarius** \- hey, I can only write one chapter at a time! ::grin:: I could post more than one, but then you'd have a very long wait for the following one. I'm really not a very fast writer.

* * *

Chapter 56 - Palace Assault

20 First Seed, 5E 3

By noon, when the fleets offshore moved in and the dragons landed to let their riders dismount, the city was a shattered and burning remnant of itself. One dragon had devastated Helgen; multiple squadrons had done far worse to Alinor City, despite its much greater size.

She heard Odahviing's voice Calling her, and Called back, "Het!" [here]

She saw him coming, and couldn't help smiling. He only carried one rider, so he'd be able to carry all three of them. He landed, and Marcurio slid off his neck, running to embrace her. "Dearling! Are you all right?"

"I am fine," she assured him, returning the embrace enthusiastically. "Where are Nevan and Serana?"

"Heading for the Palace, with Grams. They flew in on Lokbiidaan so Odahviing would have room for you three."

"I would like that, but fighting our way from the front entrance to Ungarion and Nerissa's offices would be more trouble than it is worth. I can 'port us to my ... apartment ... and we will be only one floor beneath them. But they are mine first."

"Of course." Marcuio smiled at his wife. "Take us there, then."

"In a moment." She left the cave, hugging Odahviing's snout and purring, smiling briefly up at Whitefur. "It is wonderful to see you again, fahdoni. We have much to discuss, when time permits. Are Kiraya and Erandur here as well?"

He nodded. "Erandur is with the healers, Kiraya with the Legion archers. And I have a feeling that discussion should include Paarthurnax."

"Yes, it should. But at the moment, I have two Justiciars to kill."

"Not too quickly," Odahviing said. "A whisper of 'Yol', perhaps. Though 'Krii' could be more painful, and thus better. But yes, go kill the Ungarion and the Nerissa."

* * *

Marcurio looked around Yssha's "apartment" and whistled. "Not bad, dearling. At least they finally came to value you as you deserve. Even if it was in the wrong way."

"This room, as it is now, holds some pleasant memories, and some less so," Yssha said. "But let us continue. The Justiciar offices are one floor above, at least from what my guards said."

Marcurio nodded. "Let's do it."

"Bear in mind, I know nothing of what lies ahead," Yssha cautioned. "I was dead from almost the time I boarded the _Pride of Alinor_ until I woke in this room - which was the most elaborate torture chamber I had ever seen, at the time."

"Understood," Andreius said, and the other two nodded.

With Yssha leading, the four headed up to the basement, spells and weapons ready. About halfway up the stairs, they heard sounds of spells and physical combat, getting louder as they climbed.

Yssha paused. "If the Legion is down this far already, I will probably not be able to Shout without harming them. So do not count on that."

"Right," Marcurio said.

"Want me to shift?" Sorcalin asked. "My wolf knows not to attack Legionnaires or Skyguard, and the Thalmor won't be expecting an oversized armored werewolf."

Yssha frowned, her ears going back. Armored? "But what if _they_ attack _you_?"

Sorcalin chuckled. "We've been establishing my reputation the last couple of weeks. They don't know me as Sorcalin, but they've become familiar with and welcoming to Faal Mungrohiik. If they hurt me, it'll be accidental, and he knows that."

Ysssha's chuckle-purr was startled. " _The_ Werewolf?" She refrained from what she wanted to say; she could ask about that later. Clearly, much had been going on while she was in Thalmor custody. "That might be a good idea, then."

"All right." With that, Sorcalin began the shift, and Yssha watched in astonishment. The change of form and his mage robes disappearing were normal, but dragonscale armor appearing on the shaggy form was totally new, and how in Oblivion had they gotten Adrianne to fit a _werewolf_?

She pushed that firmly to the back of her mind for later consideration as well, and allowed him to lead the rest of the way upstairs.

It was ... pleasant to see Sorcalin tearing his way through Justiciars and soldiers, with Andreius providing wards and - if she could have giggled, she would have - conjuring a pair of Dremora Lords to help Uncle Sorcalin. After what had been done to her and others, she had no sympathy at all for the Thalmor. She would have liked to help her uncles, but the corridor was too narrow for more than those two, without hampering themselves. She and Marcurio would just have to see if they could catch up after they dealt with the Justiciars.

So she and Marcurio stayed on the lee side of the battle, checking nameplates on the doors, until she found one labelled "Lord Justiciar Ungarion". Marcurio tapped her cheek, the only un-armored part he could reach, and mimed a Shout.

Yssha nodded. "Fus!"

The door exploded inward, surprising her - a single word shouldn't be that powerful! - but she stepped through the splinters, to see Ungarion, Nerissa, and a third one she didn't recognize, probably the Eliante they'd occasionally mentioned.

They began casting spells at her and Marcurio, but Dragon Aspect and ward spells, respectively, protected them. Once the Thalmor had exhausted their magica, Yssha smiled. "You still do not realize what you held, do you?" she asked softly. "Zu'u los Dovahkiin ahrk Strundu'ul. I am Dragonborn and Stormcrown. You did not conquer me; I surrendered, so you would cease to harm my teachers. It was Bormah's will - you call him Auri-El - because he had things I needed to learn without everyday distractions. But now you are mine. Or perhaps my brother's, since I believe your insults to him take precedence over my physical injuries."

Ungarion snarled. "You can do nothing to us, cat!"

"Oh, but she can," a tall, handsome, neatly-bearded man appeared, and said. "You have precedence here, briinah. They only denied my divinity, but they actually harmed you."

"Thank you, zeymah." Yssha bowed to him, then turned back to the now-fearful Thalmor. She spoke calmly, but with the intent that focused a Shout. "Gaan Lah Haas."

Drain Vitality wasn't one she used very often. Marked for Death was more useful in combat, but she had no need to weaken armor with these; the magica drain was better here, along with the health and stamina drains. She watched, coldly and silently, as their life forces were drained to collapse, and then totally. A Detect Life spell assured her they were truly dead, and she turned to leave the office.

They found a group of Legionnaires waiting. "You're all right, Ysmir!" the leader exclaimed.

"I am fine, but there are prisoners in the sub-basement who need healing and rescue," she said. "I am looking for the Divine Crusader and the rest of my teams. Preferably with General Hargan, if I can catch up to him and Faal Mungrohiik."

"The Crusader and two of yours were planning to try for the throne room. General Hargan and Faal Mungrohiik seem to be working together - you'll have to move fast to catch them." He grinned. "If I thought it was possible, I'd be certain the werewolf has a personal grudge against Thalmor, the way he's tearing them up!"

Yssha smiled. "I am glad of that. And thank you for the information. Marcurio and I will try to join up with them."

"And we'll see to the prisoners. What kind of opposition should we expect?"

"None - the Thalmor down there are dead. Unless more went down while I was busy with these three."

"I doubt it; we'd have seen them. Thanks." The Legion NCO led his squad past them, toward the sub-basement.

Yssha cast Pathfinder, focusing on Grams, and followed it as quickly as possible. They passed bodies from all four groups - Legion, Skyguard, Justiciars, and Thalmor soldiers, mostly the latter two, and a large number of those obviously Uncle Sorcalin's work. Wounded Legionnaires or Skyguard who weren't being tended to, she and Marcurio paused to aid; wounded Thalmor, they killed, on the harsh but practical principle of never leaving a live enemy behind you.

It was the kind of crowded melee Yssha purely hated, but she and Marcurio pushed on, following Pathfinder toward Grams. When they found her, she was in a knot of Legionnaires and Skyguards, kneeling, with her uncles standing nearby.

"Oh, no!" Yssha shoved her way forward, dreading what she would find. "Grams, what - "

Serana was on the floor, her left leg missing from mid-thigh down, Grams and Nevan both casting Restoration spells. Yssha joined them, helping to stop the bleeding, but the leg was gone; even with two master mages doing their best, it couldn't be regrown. Serana's adventuring days were over, and Yssha could only hope their work down in Blackreach would be a satisfying replacement.

Nevan sighed when the healing had done all it could. "Damn enchanted battle-axe ... I killed the one who did it, but too late to stop him. You go on, finish this up. I'll stay with her. I'm no good to anyone else anyway, right now."

"As you wish," Yssha agreed sympathetically. "It might be best if you take her home, and the rest of us will join you when we are done here."

Nevan stood, then picked up his wife. "Yes. I'll ... see to whatever she needs. And send for her mother." He picked up his wife and left, escorted by a pair of Skyguards.

Yssha turned to Grams. "Those who tormented me are dead, as are a great number of other Thalmor between their offices and here." She looked at her uncles, and smiled. "Faal Mungrohiik is a powerful ally, and Uncle Andreius is no slouch himself. But otherwise, how do we stand?"

"We were heading for the throne room with Prince Gaius and his people, when a Thalmor soldier got lucky and Serana went down. His Highness' bodyguard kept him moving while we stayed with her." Grams paused, blinking rapidly - as was Yssha. "Nevan and I did our best, but saving her leg was hopeless from the beginning."

"I saw." Yssha nodded. "So now we continue, to rejoin His Highness?"

"Yes. If we're lucky, the Thalmor King and his Queen, Heir, and other children will have been found and taken there."

* * *

When Yssha and those with her entered the Thalmor throne room, the group Grams had hoped for was gathered. The King and Queen looked furious between their Legion guards, the Heir only a little less so, and the younger children more frightened than anything else.

Yssha bowed to Prince Gaius. "It is good to see you again, Highness."

He smiled, and returned the bow. "And you, Majesty. It is good to see you well. But the Thalmor King is being less than cooperative."

Yssha let her fangs show. "Let me try."

The Thalmor ruler sneered at her. "Greetings, Dragon Lady. You have been enjoyable, these last two weeks."

"I am Dovahkiin or Strundu'ul," Yssha said calmly. "And you were not. Will you surrender to Prince Gaius, or would you prefer to die?"

"A beast heretic asks me that?" The King demanded.

Yssha smiled coldly. "Will you surrender or die?"

"I will never surrender to a mere creation!"

Yssha turned to a trio of Skyguards. "Get his family out. They need not see one I assume they love die, as I almost had to."

When her order had been obeyed, Yssha turned back to the King. "Make your peace with the Divines, _Thalmor_."

"Get on with it!"

"The choice was yours," Yssha said. "Yol!"

Again, a single word was more powerful than she would have expected, almost like the full Shout. Her target had time for only a brief outcry before he died, the dragonfire leaving nothing but ash on the stone floor. She turned to a Legion auxiliary. "Clean that up, and put it in ... I suppose a nice vase, for his family's sake."

When that was done, she turned her attention to Prince Gaius. "Shall I have them brought back in?"

He nodded, and she did so, then he turned to the former Heir, now King. "I hope you'll be more sensible, Highness. You've lost the war, and my Legions will begin the occupation immediately. But if you surrender, the Skyguard dragons will begin extinguishing the fires, and rescuing any civilians they and their riders can."

The new King nodded. It was impossible to tell his exact age, of course, but he was clearly young, looking like about a seventeen-year-old human. "I have no choice, do I, if I want to help my people? You have Our surrender, Highness. We will sign whatever documents are required." He paused, and looked even younger when he continued. "But ... what about my mother and sibs? What will happen to them?"

"That will depend on a couple of decisions," Gaius said. "The first one is General Hargan's." He turned to Andreius, leading him to one side of the room. "I'm sorry to spring this on you so suddenly," he said, "but Father and I didn't anticipate the old king being so stubborn, or his heir being so young."

Andreius frowned. "What are you hinting at, Highness?"

"His young Highness is going to need an Imperial Advisor, and the Isles a Military Governor. You're uniquely qualified for both, given your history. Will you take those jobs?"

Andreius thought about that, briefly. "Under one condition, Highness. That I can still travel, at least to explore the Isles. I can't handle being confined to a single location, any more than the Dragonborn can."

Gaius laughed. "Certainly you can! You'll be _expected_ to travel around the Isles, as a matter of fact, and coordinate with His Majesty in person. Side trips will be fine as well, if they aren't too extended. Which they shouldn't be, since I'm sure you'll have a dragon assigned."

"In that case, I accept."

"Excellent. Let's rejoin them, then." When they were back with the group around the King, Gaius smiled at the young mer. "The first decision is favorable, Highness. General Hargan has agreed to become your Imperial Advisor, and the Military Governor of the Summerset Isles. He is the most qualified we have for both positions. Will you accept him?"

The young mer's eyes went wide. "Hargan? Of the Hargans from the Oblivion Wars? Yes, of course!"

"I'm a mage," Andreius said. Maybe he'd tell the boy his story later, maybe not, but being a mage was sufficient explanation. "I am _that_ Hargan. I fought beside the Divine Crusader then."

The boy seemed speechless, but after a few moments, managed to get himself back together, and addressed Gaius. "About my mother and sibs?"

"Your mother may remain with you, but your sibs need to spend a year or two outside the Isles, to get past the automatic assumption of Altmer superiority." He smiled, almost gently. "You'll get over it right here, with Legionnaires and Skyguard of all races around."

The young King drew himself up, looking truly regal. "Then send your dragons and Skyguard to rescue what is left of Alinor City!"

Yssha bowed. "It will be done, Highness."

* * *

When she and Marcurio were alone that evening, Talos appeared, his expression sympathetic. "I am sorry for what happened to Lady Serana, and I share your hope that her work with Nevan and the other researchers will be fulfilling."

Then he smiled. "Now prepare yourselves, briinah and briinah's-mate. Bormah promised my soul-sister a child as soon as the war was over, and he is swift to keep his promises. You will enjoy creating your kit, but it will be very intense."

* * *

 **Author's Note 2: This looks like the best place to end this volume, at the end of the Second Great War. Yssha's Tale will continue in Volume III, Dovahjud, starting with Tuesday's post. Sorry you didn't have more notice, but the next several chapters wouldn't provide a very good ending. Cyclone Sword and I figured they would make a decent beginning.  
**


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